


Nut Hand (Formerly Drabbles and Thangs)

by MaroonCamaro



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Elvis - Freeform, First Time, Implied Sexual Content, Kinda, Las Vegas, M/M, Sexual Content, Tequila, They both get to, Wedding Fluff, top!Daryl, top!rick, yay!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-01
Updated: 2015-09-07
Packaged: 2018-04-12 10:59:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 28,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4476815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaroonCamaro/pseuds/MaroonCamaro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So, I wrote a drabble for a Tumblr prompt and <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/search?utf8=%E2%9C%93&work_search%5Bquery%5D=archlucie">ArchLucie</a> said I should start a drabble collection with this Vegas story. :) I don't know how often I'll update or add ficlets, but who knows.</p>
<p>Update:  <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/users/skarlatha/pseuds/skarlatha">Skarlatha</a> made cover art for this!  I'm so excited!  It's awesome! You can see the link at the end!  </p>
<p>Update: Well, turns out you all liked the story. :)  The new title is a poker term.  Here is the definition: The nut hand is the best possible hand in a given situation. Players sometimes evaluate hands by ranking them as being the second nuts or the pure nuts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Vegas, Baby!

**Author's Note:**

> This was floating around on my Tumblr feed, and it was late, and I was bored, and I didn't want to look at my other fic again...So, hope you like. :)
> 
> Based on this prompt:
> 
> grimestone:  
> modern au where rick and daryl get drunk in vegas and wake up hitched

The light wasn't as bright as it should be for two in the afternoon.

Rick looked at his blurry phone again. It now read 2:05. Maybe or 2:03. Defiantly two _ish_.

Ok, so two in the afternoon and he was just waking up with an elephant in his head banging on a tambourine. Nice. And he wasn't quite sure where he was.

Looking around the room he could see his boots and clothes laying in a heap next to the bed and an empty bottle of tequila. He didn't remember the tequila, or taking his clothes off for that matter. Actually he couldn't remember last night.

He'd have to ask Daryl.

Wait, where was Daryl? Rick could just make out a memory of a laughing Daryl and white roses, of all things. They must have gotten pretty drunk last night.

Rick slowly sat up, trying to tell the elephant to calm the fuck down, nobody wanted to hear his version of 'Lust for Life' on a tambourine. Shaking off the nausea Rick slowly pulled the blankets back and realized he was completely naked. Not a rare occurrence, but something a bit unexpected.

He then realized he had to take a piss and he was very, very thirsty. He decided the piss was more important than his cottonmouth. Right, so where was the toilet? Slowly moving his head, he looked around the room. The blurriness wasn't as bad so he could see that he was in a fairly nice hotel room. And the reason it wasn't as bright as it should be was because there was a dark film over the floor to ceiling windows on the far side of the room.

A puzzle piece fell into place. He was in Vegas. Well, they were in Vegas, him and Daryl.

It was coming back to him now. He and Daryl had come out to Vegas to celebrate his divorce from Lori. Rick chuckled to himself, she was gonna be madder than a wet hen when she found out he'd gone to Las Vegas with Daryl. She always had wanted to come to see a show, but they never seemed to have time while they were married. And she hated Daryl, Rick never could figure out why.

Rick looked at his phone again, 2:14. It was taking an awful long time for him to get out of the huge ass bed he was in and get to a toilet. Putting both hands on the bed, he pushed up in hopes of making his way to the bathroom. But, that was a bad idea because the room instantly tilted and his stomach went with it.

He fell to his knees and decided after gather himself up a bit that crawling was a much better option. On his trek to find a toilet he realized two things. One, he was wearing a wedding ring (not the one he'd worn for almost 15 years) and two, his ass had a dull ache. He must have had some bad Mexican at some point.

Still mostly drunk, and completely hung over, Rick meandered around the hotel room looking for the bathroom. He figured it would be near the end of the bed, but that was a dresser with a huge ass TV over top of it. He knew it wouldn't be near the windows, so he tried the other side of the bed.

On the way he could hear what sounded like someone being sick, but it wasn't in the two foot radius of his body, so he wasn't concerned. He just knew it wasn't him.

He'd forgotten his phone, so he wasn't sure how long this journey to a bathroom had been. Maybe an hour or so. And his need to piss grew with each passing minute.

He finally spied a half open door with light spilling from the room it guarded. Hurrying his pace (which was doing shit to his knees), he made it to the bathroom and pushed open the door to see Daryl hugging the porcelain god and retching miserably in it, moaning between heaves.

“Come on man, I really got to take a piss,” he implored Daryl.

“Just don't piss in my hair,” Daryl moaned out.

In actuality, Rick wasn't sure he was up to _standing_ and _aiming_ at the toilet in his attempt to empty his bladder. He looked around the room and found the tub, that would have to do.

Heaving himself up enough on his knees so that he could clear the side of the tub, he pointed his morning wood at the drain in the tub. It was a good thing that he was a couple of feet away from the wall on the other side of the tub or he would have been drenched by the splash back from hitting it instead of the drain, like he had aimed for.

When Rick finally felt less like he was going to float away, and more like he'd been run over, he let himself slink down to the cold tile floor. Daryl had stopped puking and flushed the toilet (waking up that fucking elephant), and sank to the floor alongside Rick.

“What the fuck happened?” Daryl asked him.

“All I can figure out is that we are in Vegas, it's the middle of the afternoon, there's an empty bottle of tequila in the other room, and,” Rick looked over to Daryl, “we're both naked on a bathroom floor.”

“Figured the last part,” Daryl said in his gruff way.

“I got cottonmouth something awful, I'm going to find the mini-fridge,” Rick told Daryl, slowly working his body back to the crawling position.

“No fucking way you're drinking out of the mini-fridge, that shit costs like ten bucks for a half a can of Coke.” Daryl griped.

“Don't give a fuck right now,” Rick said as he crawled past Daryl on to the sandpaper they called carpet in the main room.

Taking at least another hour, Rick made it to the min-fridge and dug out the half size can of Coke that was probably going to cost them ten bucks. By the size and extravagance of the room they were in though, that was the least of their money problems.

It only took five attempts to open the can of soda, and considering how his head was spinning and the fucking elephant's terrible singing, it was about ten attempts less than he expected. Luckily the soda didn't make a rapid reappearance and Rick was able to tell the elephant to fuck off. The elephant gave him the finger and said he'd be back.

Rick decided his recovery would go a lot better if he had some pants on, so he started the trek back to the side of the bed where he had last seen them. Along the way he picked up his phone and found it to be 2:48. Damn day was just dragging.

The little light on his phone was blinking telling him he had messages so he opened up his texts.

Shane: _Congrats bro! Didn't think you would do it! Give Daryl a high five for me!_

Carol: _You guys are two cute! Can't wait til you get back and we can throw a party!_

Michonne: _I'm gonna kick your ass and then I'm gonna kick Daryl's ass_

Carl: _Moms going to be so pissed_

Rick had a funny feeling in his stomach and it wasn't nausea. What had they done last night? His eye caught sight of the mysterious ring on his finger again.

**Fuck.**

Quickly pulling up his pictures on his phone, he scrolled backwards through shots that were obviously taken last night. Some looked like they were taken by him (Daryl with a shit eating grin) and some taken by someone else of him (Rick's money was on Daryl).

There were pictures of the two of them drinking the tequila straight from the bottle, and some that were clearly from earlier in the night where they were using shot glasses. Those weren't the worst though. The worst were the ones of Rick and Daryl naked and in compromising positions.

Never again would Rick drink tequila.

Scrolling further back he could see pictures of he and Daryl together, kissing.

Kissing.

_Kissing?_

They certainly looked happy. And now he could see where the roses had come in. As he progressed further back he could see the two of them come out of a white building. And before that signing a paper with Elvis. And before that standing in a little chapel filled with white roses.

“DARYL!”

“Jesus fucking christ, Rick. I'm right here.”

Daryl was at the corner of the bed, holding on for dear life. Rick tossed the phone to him and watched as Daryl's squinty eyes grew larger with each swipe of his finger on the phone, the ring on his finger glinting in the diffused light of the room.

He eventually dropped the phone and looked at Rick with disbelief, “Tell me we didn't just get married in a fucking Elvis love chapel on the Vegas strip.”

“I'm pretty sure we did,” Rick said as he rubbed his hand over his eyes.

“Damn it, I always wanted to get married in the woods.”

Rick shot his head up to look at Daryl, and boy-o, was that the wrong thing to do. The fucking elephant came back and he brought friends, a monkey with a cymbal, and a hyena with a set of maracas.

Daryl ducked behind the bed to avoid the Coke that decided it didn't like Rick anymore.

 

 


	2. Just Desserts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ya'll are burning up my comments wanting more. Here ya go. And, yes, there will be more later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here is Lori finding out. There's no sex, sorry, maybe next time. This is a gift for my lovely cinnamon Roll, [ArchLucie](http://archiveofourown.org/works/search?utf8=%E2%9C%93&work_search%5Bquery%5D=archlucie) . Next chapter will be for [MermaidSheenaz](http://archiveofourown.org/users/MermaidSheenaz/pseuds/MermaidSheenaz) .

Lori held the piece of paper tightly in her grip as she walked in the door.  _Her_  door. Because it was her house. No longer  _their_  house, her house.

She almost wanted to frame the divorce decree, but Carl would probably freak out. But it was definitely going to be somewhere she could see it every day, maybe her underwear drawer. Carl wouldn't look there.

Dancing up the steps to her bedroom, she tripped on the third step up. The one with the loose board. It had broken the night after Rick had finally moved out. She'd been taking some of his old clothes out to throw them away and had stepped wrong, she caught herself, but broke the step.

Rick had said he would come and fix it when he picked up Carl that weekend, but got pissy when he found out she'd thrown out his old clothes. What else was she supposed to do with them? Fold them up and have them waiting for him when he came by again?

Maybe she could get Shane to fix it for her, even if he didn't know the difference between a hammer and a screwdriver. It'd be fun to watch either way, he'd probably take his shirt off and mmmm. He was easy on the eyes, even if he couldn't string a sentence together most days.

Laughing at herself, she made it to her room to put the paper in her underwear drawer in the big dresser she and Rick used to share. She smiled at the antique dresser, now she'd have the whole thing to herself. She could fill it with all kinds of new outfits.

Lori frowned at bit at that. Rick would have to pay child support, but not spousal support. The judge had said Lori had a degree and should be able to find a job. She hadn't even thought about working outside of the house since Rick had proposed right after she'd finished college.

She decided that she would post on Facebook that she was looking for a job, surely someone could help her. She hadn't looked for a job in, well she'd never looked for a job. How hard could it be? She was resourceful and creative, she could find a job easy. 

Walking into the half bath, she checked to make sure her hair was still presentable. Leaning over the sink to get a better look she spied a gray hair. Curling her lip in distaste, she found the tweezers and plucked the damn thing out. She'd have to get a hair appointment soon. Maybe find a new hairdresser too. Spending a hundred dollars on a hair appointment would be out of her budget until she got a job.

Finished with her primping, Lori decided to go check out Facebook. She had the house to herself since she'd dropped Carl off at his friend's house before going to the court house to pick up a copy of the decree. She'd been a little pissed when she found out she'd have to pay for a copy, and extra to have it certified. But she liked the embossed seal on the bottom. Made it more official.

As she got to the bottom of the steps she noticed a dark spot on the front door above the handle. She wasn't sure why she hadn't noticed it before. Stepping closer to see what it was, she tripped over the rug at the foot of the stairs.

Cursing loudly she fell into the door, hearing a crash as her foot caught the side table by the door. Rick always said it was in the way, but she liked to have a vase of flowers there. It really brightened up the room.

But now the vase was in pieces on the table and the floor. It hadn't had any flowers in it for a few weeks, Rick had usually bought them for her as an apology when she was pissed at him. He had been sending them off and on for a few months after he'd left, but they eventually stopped coming.

Rubbing her head where it had hit the door, she turned to go to the kitchen to get the broom and dustpan, might as well get a wet rag for the door too.

She smiled as she walked into the kitchen, her pride and joy. They'd just had it re-done last year. They were still making the payments for it, but it would be paid off in another year. Well, she would be making payments on it. Since Rick had let her have the house free and clear, the judge had told Lori she was wholly responsible for the upkeep and any outstanding debts for the house, which meant the payment for the new kitchen. Definitely going to need a well paying job.

Collecting the cleaning supplies she went back to the front of the house to clean up the vase and wipe the dark mark off the door. She decided to clean the door off first.

On closer inspection, the mark looked like grease or oil. Lori wracked her brain trying to figure out how that had gotten there. Then she remembered that hill-jack Daryl Dixon had come with Rick to pick up Carl and some of his things the other day. He must have done it on one of the trips out with Rick's stuff. Damn dirty redneck.

Luckily the oil came right off with just the dish detergent she'd lathered the rag with. It was supposed to be a grease cutter. Lori decided she might have to start couponing if she wanted to keep buying it, the dish soap was the most expensive on the store shelf. And she was not about to start buying store brands. What if the Jones' found out?

Setting the rag on the edge of the table, she hurried to sweep up the vase. Some of the shards of glass had gotten in the rug, so she decided the best way to get them out was to shake the rug. She heard the tinkling as glass hit the floor. She shook it one more time hard, just to make sure, the rug hitting the side of the table as she shook.

She set the rug on the bottom step to get it out of the way of the broom before she swept. Stepping back she felt something squish beneath her foot before sliding out, causing her to loose her balance and fall on her rear.

“Shit,” she muttered to herself, using language she would chastise Rick for.

Putting her hand down in a pile of glass to stand up wasn't brilliant either. She now had three of four dots of blood blooming on the palm of her hand. Shaking her hand, she maneuvered herself to a sitting position and went to the bathroom under the stairs to wash her hand and find the antiseptic. The broken vase could wait a minute or two.

While washing out the cuts, she noticed there was still a piece of glass in her hand. She carefully dug it out, but it made a bigger, more painful hole on the way out. Great, now she would get a scar. The rubbing alcohol burned like fire, but she was out of peroxide, having used it on Carl's knee last week.

She'd been putting off going to the store until after the divorce was final, hoping to get a check from Rick to her, but the check for Carl would have to do, it was generous enough, but she couldn't use it for herself. If Rick found out she had, he'd drag her back to court.

Just as she finished bandaging her hand she heard her cell phone ring. It was in her purse, upstairs on her bed where she left it while putting away her legal papers.

She was expecting a call from Carl, so she ran out of the bathroom and up the steps. Well, she meant to do that. Lori'd forgotten about the rug on the bottom step. It slipped out from under her foot as she stepped on it causing her to fall forward. Fourtunately, she caught herself with her hands before hitting her head or her shins. Unfortunately, one of her hands had a bandage covering her very recently acquired wounds.

Hissing in pain, she pushed herself back up and ran up the stairs, wobbling a bit on the loose board on the broken step.

Running into her room, she picked up her phone on the last notes of her ring tone (Somethin' Bad by Carrie Underwood and Miranda Lambert). It had been Carl and he wouldn't leave a message no matter how many times she told him to, so she would have to call him back.

Lori sat on the edge of the bed as she waited for Carl to pick up, why it took four rings for him to pick up just seconds after he'd hung up was a mystery to her.

“Hey mom,” he answered.

“Hello Carl, are you having fun at your friend's house?” Lori couldn't remember the kids name, but he lived in the new subdivision that had all the big houses, so she figured it didn't matter just yet. She planned on Carl spending a lot of time there, and maybe she would too after she got to know the kid's parents.

“Yeah mom. He's got a pool and a hot tub and a basketball hoop in the driveway. We've been busy.” Carl told his mom.

Lori smiled to herself, a pool and a hot tub, yeah she was going to get to know these parents.

“His dads are cool too.”

“Dads?” Lori asked in bewilderment.

“Yeah, he's got two dudes as dads, no mom.”

“No mom?” Lori questioned in a horrified voice.

“Nope. Look, I gotta go. They grilled steaks for dinner.” That sounded a lot better than the tuna casserole Lori was planning on having.

“Hey, don't forget your dad should be picking you up tomorrow.” She reminded her son.

“I doubt it, he's in Vegas. See ya mom!” and he hung up the phone before she could ask him about that little bomb shell.

What the hell was Rick doing in Vegas? She would definitely be asking him about that the next time he picked up Carl. The bastard had always said he couldn't go that far and be gone that long. He'd suggested Atlantic City, but Lori was afraid of all the New Yorkers and people from New Jersey that would be there. She could just see some gangster looking guy sitting next to her at a slot machine. Shuddering at the thought, Lori got up to to go finish cleaning up that damn vase.

Carefully stepping over the rug, she made it to the bottom of the steps unscathed. She quickly swept up all the glass that she could see, and then swept the area again just to make sure.

Finishing that unpleasant task, she remembered that she was going to go on Facebook to post about needing a job. She didn't have to worry about Rick seeing it, he wasn't on Facebook. And the only reason he had a smart phone was because the sheriff's department got it for him.

Pulling up her Facebook page on the computer she could see she had a lot of notifications. It looked like Carol had tagged her in a bunch of pictures and a lot of people had commented on them.

Clicking on Carol's post, she saw Rick smiling his big goofy smile at the camera. And there was that greasy red neck Daryl. Of course he could convince Rick to go to Las Vegas. As soon as Rick had met the guy he'd done nothing but talk about how cool Daryl was. Lori didn't see it, the drifter could use a bath and a haircut. And she really didn't like Carl hanging out with him, despite Rick saying their boy could learn a lot from Daryl.

Lori clicked through a few more pictures and saw that the two seemed to be having a great time. They even had a picture of Elvis, not that that was a big surprise. They were in Las Vegas after all.

Wait, were they in a wedding chapel? Did Rick go with Daryl to be a best man or something? It seemed like the kind of tacky thing that the loser would do, run off to Vegas for a quicky wedding. But, she hadn't seen a bride in any of the pictures yet.

She clicked some more, looking for a woman, not even noticing what Rick and Daryl were actually doing in the pictures. She just saw the big smiles the two had.

Holy hell, they were fucking  _kissing_ in the next picture. What the fuck? Lori went back through the photos to look at them again.

This time she noticed that the two men were holding hands, that they were standing in front of Elvis who was holding a bible, and that they were exchanging rings.  _Rings._

_Rick fucking married Daryl god damned Dixon!_

Lori sucked in an enraged breath and violently pushed back her chair. The chair, not used to such violence, tipped over backwards. The angry woman fell straight back, her head bouncing on the hard wood floor, blacking out.

When Carol came over later to drop off a casserole dish she had borrowed, she made sure to get a picture of Lori lying there to put on Facebook later before she made sure the little bitch was okay.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If ya'll are good, I'll do another Rickyl chapter. ;)


	3. Outdoor Cat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I might have promised ya'll some Rickyl for this chapter, however, I think you will like this chapter just fine. And, as always, all bow to [ArchLucie](http://archiveofourown.org/works/search?utf8=%E2%9C%93&work_search%5Bquery%5D=archlucie) , who not only betas for me, but writes amazing stories that are way better than this. 
> 
> Also, this was supposed to be a collection of drabbles, but it seems to be turning into a full fledged story! But since they are just drabbles, I write them pretty quick and then [ArchLucie](http://archiveofourown.org/works/search?utf8=%E2%9C%93&work_search%5Bquery%5D=archlucie) gives them a once over and then they are posted. Please forgive any errors or gaping plot holes. And thanks for all the comments and such!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter will show what prompted the trip to Las Vegas in the first place.

Daryl eyed the petite brunette that was currently giving Rick an earful about Carl being brokenhearted that his father had moved out. He was pretty sure she was the one that insisted Rick move out, so this was just a ploy to make Rick feel like shit.

“He didn't eat his dinner last night, just kept sighing,” she was currently droning on about.

“It was tuna casserole, you know I hate that mom,” Carl piped up from the living room.

Daryl bit his lip to keep from laughing at the way Lori tried to hide her irritation at being caught out. She apparently was bound and determined to make this as hard on Rick as possible, and was failing miserably. Daryl could tell Rick was trying real hard not to just laugh in her face.

Rick had already had a long conversation with Carl about the whole ordeal, Carl was just pissed that he had to spend the majority of his time with Lori. Daryl didn't blame him one bit, it was like listening to a damn screech owl.

They were there to pick up the rest of Rick's things. Mostly some clothes and some stuff from the garage.

“What do you mean you tossed out all my old clothes?” Rick said disbelievingly.

“They were just taking up closet space and space in the dresser. You left them here, I figured you didn't want them.” Lori shrugged and turned away.

“You told me I had an hour to get out, I filled up a gym bag and left,” Rick was doing the sighing, eye rub thing. He was really trying to hold it together.

Daryl fingered the little tube of gear grease he had in his pocket. It was clear at first, but would darken up when exposed to oxygen. Squeezing a small amount on his fingers, he then rubbed around the door handle of the front door he was standing next to. It would be a few days before she noticed it.

“Where's the china?” Rick asked Lori.

Rick strode off into the kitchen, after the china that had been his grandmother's. Rick had told Daryl that there was no way in hell she was keeping that, it was the main reason they were here now.

Daryl ambled into the living room where Carl was playing a game on his phone. Daryl didn't feel comfortable sitting on the delicate looking furniture, but the chair by the computer looked sturdy enough.

As he sat down, he could hear Lori in the other room, “Rick, those are not your grandmother's dishes. I bought them on our trip to Gatlinburg.”

“Lori, I gave you the house and the car and everything in it that isn't something I need to survive, except for my grandmother's china. You are not keeping it. Now if I have to, I will call my great aunt Lucie and have her send me the picture of my grandmother opening the box on her wedding day.”

"See ya Daryl, " Carl said as he hopped off the couch.

"You coming back anytime soon?" Daryl asked him.

"Nah, I'll be gone until Sunday." Waving goodbye to Daryl, Carl scurried out of the house.

Daryl leaned back in the chair he was sitting in, noticing how nice it was. He ran his hand along the back and down to under the seat. He found a screw there. Careful not to over do it, he twisting it just a bit. It might take a few days for it to work all the way out, but it would eventually.

“Where are they Lori?” Rick could be heard asking.

“I put them upstairs. To keep them safe.”

 _Right_  thought Daryl. More like hiding them.

Rick walked through the living room on his way to the stairs. Daryl could tell by his purposeful walk that he was beyond his limit. Lori was right on his heels.

“You can't just go upstairs and go through my things.” Lori was trying to stop Rick from going upstairs. Daryl had a sneaking suspicion that she was hiding more than Rick's china.

“I'm not going to go through your things, just tell me where the china is,” Rick had stopped on the third step and looked down at Lori.

She had a pinched look on her face, “Fine, the box is in the bottom of the closet in the bedroom.”

Rick hurried up the steps with Lori scurrying after. Daryl figured Rick would need help, so he got up to follow. By the time he got to the step Rick had stopped on he could hear Lori's shrill voice again. He shuddered at the thought that Rick had had to listen to that for the last fifteen years or so.

Taking a step down, he reached down and gave the stair riser a sharp tug and felt it give a bit. It may never actually move, but it was nice to remember that was the step where Rick had stopped to give Lori shit.

Lori startled when she turned around to see Daryl at the top of the steps. Daryl tipped his head to her scowl, trying not to smirk back at her.

“Just came up to give Rick a hand,” he told her.

“He's in the bedroom, I don't think you need to go in there.” She said as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“Don't care about your kinky sex toys,” Daryl said as he pushed past her, smiling at her gasp of outrage.

Rick was down on his knees rummaging around in the aforementioned closet when Daryl go to the room. Daryl leaned against the door jam to take in the view. Rick had a sweet little ass. He could look at it all day.

Rubbing the scruff on his chin he asked, “What are you doing, digging for gold?”

“She put it behind all this other stuff. I think she really thought I would forget about my grandmother's china,” Rick said from inside the closet.

Daryl chuckled a bit about Rick being in the closet. He had high hopes that maybe Rick was in the metaphorical closet. 'Cause that ass was so, so sweet.

“What do you got planned for this weekend?” Daryl asked Rick.

“Dunno, drink some beers, hang out? It's two days away.”

“You busy 'til then?” Daryl tried again.

That caused Rick to finally pulled his head out of the closet to look at Daryl, “Why?”

“Just thought we could go on a road trip, get away from this for a while.” Daryl was not blushing, it was hot in this damn house.

Sharp blue eyes looked Daryl up and down before Rick gave a short nod of his head. Daryl had to shift his stance 'cause damn if little Daryl didn't wake up with that look.

“Rick!” Daryl cringed at the damn screech owl calling from the bottom of the stairs.

Rick rolled his eyes and reached back into the closet, and Daryl was almost certain that the little hottie shook his ass at him.

Dragging a large box out of the closet, Rick looked inside to make sure of its contents. Daryl walked over to look as well and saw some pretty ugly looking china.

“That's worth all this bullshit of hers?”

“No, it's not worth anything, but she doesn't know that.” Rick grinned at Daryl.

Daryl grinned back, ready to take that box of crap out of this house like it was full of the finest bone china. He couldn't wait to see the look of distaste on the owl's face.

“Let's go,” he told Rick.

Rick insisted on going down the steps backwards, his reasoning that he was used to going up and down the steps. If Daryl had his way, Rick'd never have to take these steps again.

When they got to the bottom, Lori was standing there with her arms crossed over her chest, giving both men her cold look. Daryl couldn't resist anymore and gave her a smirk. She narrowed her eyes at him, obviously trying to suss out what could have amused him.

Since she didn't even bother opening the door for them, causing Rick to have to awkwardly balance the heavy box as he reached behind himself to do it, Daryl didn't feel bad about hooking a foot around the table by the door and pulling it forward slightly. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, Daryl will make up for this in the next chapter.


	4. Bronies and Teddy Bears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to have to stop telling ya'll what's happening in the next chapter, 'cause I have yet to do any of that. :) And I'm going to change the title from Drabbles and Thangs because it's turned into a whole damn story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always thank you to my talented, gracious, wondrous, creative, and all around great beta, [ArchLucie](http://archiveofourown.org/works/search?utf8=%E2%9C%93&work_search%5Bquery%5D=archlucie) .
> 
> This chapter is for my friend [MermaidSheenaz](http://archiveofourown.org/users/MermaidSheenaz/pseuds/MermaidSheenaz)
> 
> Enjoy!

"So, where are we going on this road trip?” Rick asked as he threw his duffle bag into the back of Daryl's beat up truck. The old Ford had probably seen a lot of miles, but knowing how Daryl kept up his stuff, Rick suspected it would do quite a few more.

“Dunno, any where you wanna go?”

“Never been east of the Mississippi,” Rick said.

“I ain't never been east of Georgia,” Daryl replied as he started up the engine.

Arching a brow at the driver, Rick replied, “We gonna fix that right now.”

Daryl tilted his head and gave his best mysterious smile. This was going to be a good trip.

***

“What do you mean you don't have any rooms? I called this morning!” Rick was not happy. They were at a cheap hotel in Memphis, tired and strung out from the road.

Daryl was giving the hotel receptionist his best “I'm gonna rip out your throat with my bare hands” look. But the guy must have been made of sterner stuff, because he just glared back. And he was bigger than Rick and Daryl, his t-shirt tight over his large arms and chest, standing a good few inches taller than the two. But why the guy was wearing a tattered wool cap in this heat, Daryl would never understand.

“Look man, we just got a convention of Bronies in and the place is packed.” The large man planted his hands on the counter and leaned over menacingly.

One of the things that Daryl really admired about Rick was his ability to not back down, no matter the situation. So he wasn't surprised when Rick stepped closer to the counter, looked the man in the eye and said, “Find us something, here or somewhere else.”

Daryl had to let his backpack fall from his shoulder and rest between his legs, because Rick's authoritative voice sure as shit woke up little Daryl-again.

The big dude sighed before looking over his very large shoulder and hollering, “Sasha!”

A delicate looking woman with a fierce demeanor came around the corner with a scowl on her face, “What are you hollerin' about Tyreese? I am right here! And I am up to my eyeballs in life size 'My Little Ponies.' Enough to give somebody nightmares.”

“Are you sure we don't have any rooms left? These guys look tired. And this one here,” Tyreese points at Rick, “is celebrating his divorce.”

“The only room we have left is the king room with the busted air conditioner,” she told him.

“We'll take it,” Daryl piped up. He didn't give a damn if the air didn't work, he didn't have any air growing up, he could handle it just fine.

“It's stuck on, it's like 50 degrees in there,” She informed Daryl.

Daryl figured that would help keep little Daryl at bay, 'cause the thought of spending the night in a bed with Rick was making him a little cross eyed. Even if it was strictly platonic.

“Can't you just open a window or something?” Rick asked.

Tyreese looked a little abashed, “The dumpster is right next to the window, I wouldn't recommend it.”

Rick put one hand on his hip and rubbed his eyes with his other, “We'll make it work.”

Daryl wasn't sure how they were going to “make it work”, but Rick was resourceful, so he had high hopes.

Sasha led them down a long hallway filled with a rainbow of pony costumes. Daryl would never  _say_  anything (to each his own and all that shit), but it really took some balls to be a grown-ass man in a rainbow colored My Little Pony costume, complete with fur, mane, and tail. Most of them barely could clear the doorways as they walked along the halls.

“Maybe we can borrow one of those,” he suggested to Rick.

Rick actually stopped mid-step to turn around and give Daryl and incredulous look.

“What? They look warm.”

Rick didn't even answer him, just continued to stomp after Sasha.

The room was bright and airy, with a large bed in the middle, and colder than a witch's titty. Or a well digger's ass. Or a penguin's turds. Definitely colder than his last landlord's heart, but not colder than that look Lori'd given Daryl on their way out the other day.

“Damn, it's cold in here. I'll get ya'll some more blankets.”

“I'll take the floor,” Daryl volunteered.

“Like hell you are. It's a king size bed, I”m sure there's plenty of room.”

Daryl eyed the bed, it did look pretty big. And seein' as how it was past midnight and he was bone tired, he figured he could risk it. He was going to leave his clothes on anyhow. Usually he slept in his underwear and a t-shirt, but damn it was cold in this room.

Rick dropped his bag on the bed and dug out his toiletries before hitting the bathroom. Daryl did not give a damn if he stunk, he was not taking a shower in this Siberian wilderness masquerading as a hotel room.

Daryl heard some shuffling outside the door and guessed Sasha was back with more blankets. He opened the door to see her struggling with an oversized comforter and some blankets.

She smiled at him and came in the room, walking straight to the bed, the door slamming behind her.

Daryl moved Rick's bag off the bed and motioned for Sasha to toss him a side of the blanket, but before they could get it on straight, they could hear the distinctive sound of the toilet being filled by a strong stream from Rick.

Daryl closed his eyes and prayed that Rick would finish soon, but he probably wouldn't since he'd drunk that damn Big Gulp of tea. Daryl'd warned him not to get all that at eight o'clock at night, but Rick said he was used to it. He tried to maintain some composure, straightening his side of the bed, but Rick continued to let fly and was now  _moaning_  for god's sake.

Sasha, being the professional hotel concierge that she was, bit her lip and folded over, holding her stomach in an attempt not to laugh. Daryl had to bite his lip too, as now they could hear Rick let loose a great gust of wind. Rick must have thought Daryl had left, at least Daryl hoped that he thought he left.

Sasha put a hand up in surrender, waving it about like a white flag, before straightening up and turning to leave. Poor thing had tears in her eyes, whether from trying not to laugh or the pain from biting her lip, Daryl wasn't sure.

Just then, the bathroom door came open, Rick stepping out with his pants undone and his shirt pushed up, stepping straight into Sasha's personal space.

For her part, Sasha handled it well. Stepping back to get her bearings, her eyes swept up and down the hot little number in front of her. Smirking and giving Rick a wink, she left the room with a swish of her hips.

Daryl thought the whole display was uncalled for. Rick was recently divorced and did not need that type of distraction. Daryl was here to make sure Rick forgot all about women. Well, particular women. Screech owls and flirty hotel workers mostly.

Rick was standing where Sasha left him, eyes squeezed shut, face red as a beet. Daryl had to admit, Rick with his fly open and shirt rucked up was worth a long slow gander. His happy trail flowing down into the top of his jeans, the dip of his hips just visible. And hot damn, Daryl was pretty sure he was going commando.

And fuck if little Daryl didn't start screaming from his pants, having a fit to see where that happy trail led.

“Thought you stepped out to smoke or somethin',” Rick said.

“Nah, just let Sasha in to put more blankets on the bed.” Daryl quickly pulled up his side of the blanket, lest Rick find out about little Daryl and the fit he was having.

Daryl tried not to pout as Rick buttoned up his jeans and pulled down his shirt. It really was a nice view.

“Let me help you with that. I wanna get to bed before my balls freeze off,” Rick told him, jerking on his side of the blanket.

Daryl had no intention of letting Rick's balls freeze off, so he hurried and helped arrange the blankets to Rick's preferences (hospital corners), layering two more blankets and the comforter.

“Thought you was gonna shower?” He asked Rick.

“Came out to get clean pants and a shirt and got, uh, distracted.”

Daryl had to smirk and shake his head at that, reliving the shock and dismay on Rick's face as he came out of the bathroom. Rick was kinda cute when he was flustered.

“Well, get your shit. I'm gonna take a piss and then go outside and warm up and have a smoke.”

Rick nodded and headed to the other side of the bed where his duffle bag lay on the floor next to Daryl's feet. Daryl didn't mean to lick his lips just as Rick got within arm's length of him, it just happened. And Daryl was sure (very, very sure) that when Rick licked  _his_  lips, it was all a coincidence.

Daryl had to get to the bathroom and try and talk some sense into little Daryl, because he had the worst timing.

But, of course, he tripped over his own damn feet and flailed around until he fell on the bed, pulling Rick with him.

Rick landed with an “omph” right on top of Daryl, trapping little Daryl between them. It was Daryl's turn to squeeze his eyes shut and turn beet red.

“You all right, man?” Rick asked as he slithered (fucking slithered!) off Daryl.

“Yeah, uh just gotta piss like a Russian race horse,” that was as plausible a reason as any to have an inconvenient stiffy.

Daryl scurried to the bathroom where he thought long and hard about Lori naked in attempts to get little Daryl calmed down enough so that he could actually take a piss. Once he was done with that ordeal, he ducked out of the room without looking at Rick, desperate for a smoke.

Lighting up next to his truck, Daryl laid his head back against the cab. He was an idiot. Well, his dick was an idiot. Daryl knew Rick didn't swing that way, even if he did wiggle his ass at Daryl in the closet. That sweet, sweet ass. Daryl had some thoughts about what he could do if he ever got a chance at it.

Nope, nothin' doing. Not gonna happen. Daryl angrily pushed off from the truck, determined to put little Daryl to sleep. The little shit was really making this trip hard. Or, his hardness was making this trip shitty. One or the other.

After making four loops of the parking lot and smoking two more cigarettes, that little fucker was still awake and being a pain in the ass. Not willing to chance getting caught in the truck, Daryl ducked into the woods behind the hotel to rock little Daryl to sleep. Spoiled little shit.

When he got back to the room it was dark and the bathroom door was hanging open, steam rolling out into the main room. Usually that would have bothered Daryl, but seeing as his balls had drawn up from the cold as soon as he stepped into the bedroom, he could live with it. They only had to be here a few hours, he could deal with it for that long.

Rick was already in bed, Daryl could hear him breathing from the bed. Feeling his way to the chair, he sat to take his boots off. And that was it, everything else was staying on.

Careful not to make too much noise, he found the bed and groped his way up the side of it, trying to find the top of the blanket. He didn't want to undo the whole bed, just pull back enough to slip in.

Finding the top of the bed, he pulled back the mountain of blankets and slipped in the bed. Huh, he was halfway expecting he would “accidentally” lay on Rick, but Rick was on the other side of the bed. Where he'd put his duffle bag, of course.

Daryl shook his head and snuggled deeper under the blanket. At least he was bone tired from driving the whole way. Rick wouldn't admit it, but Daryl believed the tough guy was afraid of his old truck.

Daryl dreamed of china and a rainbow colored teddy bear that night. The china was crashing all around him, causing him to jump and twitch, but the teddy bear hugged him close and told him it would be ok. The china disappeared and the bear told him a story about tea and warm blankets, his wet nose rubbing in Daryl's ear as he spoke, until Daryl calmed down and hugged the bear back.

When Daryl woke the next morning, he immediately noticed two things. One, little Daryl was awake and having a screaming fit, and two, little Daryl was having a screaming fit because he was snuggled up to Rick's (sweet, sweet) ass.

Daryl tried to roll over and distance himself from Rick before he woke up, but Rick had hold of both of Daryl's hands. He was able to do that because Daryl's arms were wrapped around Rick in a most intimate way.

Hoping that Rick was still asleep, Daryl relaxed back into Rick's body, contouring himself along the lean, strong lines of the object of his desire. Carefully inhaling, he could smell the soap Rick had used last night. And his curls were tickling Daryl's nose, but he didn't care. He was in heaven.

Daryl was in that twilight of not awake, but not asleep when he felt Rick move. He was instantly awake, too shocked to move, when he felt Rick grind his ass back into Daryl. It was a good thing Daryl was already laying down, or he would have fucking fallen over. As it was, he was trying to control his breathing and not give away that he was awake.

And, fucking shit, if Rick didn't moan and grind harder. Daryl's eyes rolled back in his head as little Daryl stood up in his chair and started screaming at the top of his lungs. He was going to die, right here in this bed in a no name hotel in Memphis, a pack of bronies the witness to his demise.

With a final drawn out moan (really, did he have to sound like a porn star when he did that?), Rick jerked and woke up. He let go of one of Daryl's hands to rub his face and head. Daryl decided he would continue to pretend he was asleep. It was perfectly natural to have a hard on in your sleep, so if Rick thought Daryl was asleep, then he was good.

As Rick came around and became aware of his surroundings, he rolled away from Daryl. Daryl, for his part, tried to act natural as he rolled onto his front, as though he were doing it in his sleep. He heard Rick curse and get out of the bed, cursing again as he felt the cold air hit his body.

That was the first Daryl had seen of him since before going out to smoke last night and was surprised to see Rick in just a pair of boxer briefs. Little Daryl started kicking the back of the guy in front's seat, such a shit.

Rick grabbed his duffle bag and hurried to the bathroom. After he was gone, Daryl found the wet spot on the sheets that had caused Rick to curse. Little Daryl squealed in delight.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As [ArchLucie](http://archiveofourown.org/works/search?utf8=%E2%9C%93&work_search%5Bquery%5D=archlucie) said in the note she left me, "Poor Daryl, he had a *hard* night.


	5. Pneumatic Brad Nailer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl can't live with himself knowing Lori got hurt because of his actions. 
> 
> As you certainly know by now, [ArchLucie](http://archiveofourown.org/works/search?utf8=%E2%9C%93&work_search%5Bquery%5D=archlucie) is da bomb. :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey gang! Sorry this took a couple of days. Real life happened. Blah. The good news is I have a title for this fic! The bad news is I think there will only one more chapter, maybe two.

It was the only thing that had wiped the stupid grin off his face. The picture Carl had shown him of a passed out Lori laying on her back, the broken chair under her. Carl thought it damn funny, but Daryl was more concerned that she was ok.

Daryl was afraid he messed up his karma after seeing that, even if Carl swore she was just fine. He figured he needed to suck it up and go make amends. So he packed up his tool bag, stopped and bought a bunch of flowers ($10.99 for a handful of jumped up weeds), and drove over to Lori's house.

She sure wasn't happy to see him, her eyes narrowed and her lips pursed. She was dressed better than the last time he saw her, in a tight button up shirt and painted on jeans. Looked like she was ready for a hot date on a Saturday night, even if it was only Tuesday. Daryl took a deep breath, he could do this.

“Came to fix your stair and your chair. Brought you some flowers too.” Daryl pushed past the mute screech owl, shoving the flowers into her hands.

“Daryl, Daryl. I don't need you to do that, I can have someone come and do it,” Lori put a hand on one of those chiseled arms to try and stop him.

“ 'S no trouble,” he wouldn't be able to sleep tonight if he didn't fix what he'd broken, even if it took all his will power not to hiss in her face for touching him.

“Really Daryl, it's fine. How did you even know?”

“Carl.”

Lori pursed her lips again, apparently that was not what she expected. Carl pretty much told them everything that had happened while they were gone. How Carol had come over after Lori had gotten hurt and how mad Lori had been by the time Carol had left. And how Shane had run into them at the grocery store and then stayed with them the whole trip and offered to pay (Lori let him.) But best of all would have to be that Michonne had called to ask Lori what she thought Rick and Daryl would like for a wedding gift, apparently the phone hadn't survived the conversation.

Carl hadn't even told him where he'd gotten the picture, just said it wasn't him that took it. Either way, Daryl was determined to make it right, he just wasn't that kind of guy.

She was still just standing there in front of him, holding the flowers like a shield against him. “Really, you can go. I don't....”

The door bell rang just then. Lori shot Daryl a glare before turning and opening the door, dumping the flowers on the table as she did so.

Shane Walsh's bawdy smile was not what Daryl was expecting, but it obviously was for Lori.

Daryl snorted, that sure as hell didn't take long. He couldn't figure out what was so special about the screech owl. She must have some kind of G.I. Joe kung-fu grip.

Shane was leaning against the door jam, probably thought it was sexy or something. Well, he didn't look bad, but he just wasn't Daryl's cup of tea. Too big and jock-ish. Daryl could only take him in small doses. But he was still a good friend to Rick and was the first to congratulate them, so he'd be nice. For Rick.

Lori was lapping Shane's antics up like a cat with a bowl of milk, leaning on the door and giving Shane a 'come hither' look. Daryl just managed not to hurl.

“Heard you have a loose floor board,” Shane said, brandishing an obviously new flat-head screw driver.

“I got it,” Daryl told him.

Shane seemed to finally notice Daryl and walking past a clearly perturbed Lori said, “Look at the newlywed! Can I see the ring?” 

Well, he was the first to congratulate Rick, so Daryl showed Shane his simple, barely there, gold band. Lori sniffed behind them, she hadn't even bothered to offer her congratulations, just filled Carl's ears with homophobic jealous drivel.

“Rick's has a diamond. Does that make him the girl?” And they were back to the dumb jock.

“I jus' won more at poker,” Daryl explained before moving to the stairs to hammer a nail or two into that loose board.

“Oh, hey Daryl, I got this,” Shane said as he waved the screwdriver around.

“All right,” Daryl abandoned the job to Shane for the time being. He was sure he'd have to come back to it eventually. Dumb ass had the wrong tool, so he sure as shit didn't know what he was doing.

Looking around Shane to the living room, Daryl could see the broken chair laying in a heap off to the side. He'd hoped it would just be a matter of fixing the nut he'd loosened, but it was in a couple of pieces, so he worried it might be a lost cause.

“Damn Lori, looks like I brought the wrong tool.” Daryl shook his head, that's what you get for thinking with your tool. Or just acting like one.

“Oh, I don't know Shane, I bet you got a tool that could fix anything.” Lori practically purred at Shane.

Careful not to throw up in his mouth, Daryl examined the pieces of the chair. It didn't actually look broke, just needed the nut screwed back on.

“Maybe,” Shane snickered behind Daryl, “but I still think this is gonna need a hammer to fix.”

“Aw Shane, you gonna do some hammering for me?” Lori was sure laying it on thick.

Daryl shot up from his crouched position, “Going to get an adjustable wrench.”

“Hey, you got a hammer?” Shane asked.

Daryl didn't break eye contact as he pulled the hammer he'd brought with him from his back pocket and handed it to Shane.

“Hey, thanks man.” Shane gave him his best goofy grin.

“Yeah, thanks.” Lori gave her best icy stare.

Pursing his lips to keep quiet, Daryl went out to his truck to get the adjustable wrench out of his tool bag. How any man could get on in life without a basic set of tools baffled him. Daryl always had his tool bag within easy reach, you never knew when something was going to break down. But maybe that's what made him different from Shane. He fixed what was broken, Shane probably just bought a new one.

When he got back in the house, Lori was leaning seductively over the banister of the stair. Her shirt seemed to be gaping open a bit more as well. Shane was sitting on the step he was supposed to be repairing telling Lori some crazy story about a platypus.

“See, they lay eggs, but they give milk. But not like regular animals, it just leaches out of 'em. Just goes to show you can milk anything I guess. Isn't that right Daryl?” Shane asked Daryl.

“I suppose,” he replied.

“You think you could get milk out of any animal Daryl? Like a deer or a squirrel?” Lori challenged in her condescending way.

“You could probably milk a squirrel. But I wouldn't recommend it.” Daryl turned back to the chair, wanting to get out of there as fast as he could. Lori's temperature changes between him and Shane were getting to him.

“Good one Daryl!” Shane said laughing. Then turning back to his self assigned task, “All right, let's get this thing fixed.”

Shane stood up and swung that hammer as hard as he could at the poor little nail. Neither the nail nor the step ever had a chance. It broke right in half.

Daryl bit his lip to keep from laughing out loud at the bug eyed expression on Lori's face. Shane's wasn't much better, he was blushing hard and trying to look anywhere but at Lori, the step, or Daryl.

Walking over to inspect the damage, he got another slit eyed glare from screech owl. Giving her a side eye back, he said, “Just broke in two, can prolly fix it with some wood glue.”

“Yes! Wood glue! I think there's some in the garage.” Lori exclaimed as she pulled a bewildered Shane from the steps to the garage door just on the other side of the hall.

Daryl didn't even bother telling her that Rick had taken it with him when they'd moved him out. She was a lost cause at this point. Daryl was pretty sure if he told her that he could keep her fed over a winter, she'd still be cold to him.

Quickly assembling the chair and tightening the screw and nut back down, Daryl finished up the one task he could actually do.

He really wanted to leave, but Shane had his hammer. It was a good hammer, so he didn't want to leave it.

And the step was calling to him, begging him not to leave him to Shane's care. Lori had rushed Shane out so quickly that it was still laying there like a crash victim, part of it still on the riser and part laying on the step below.

Going out to his truck again, he got the wood glue and his pneumatic nail gun. And the broken smoke detector he'd just replaced for the Polish lady that lived down the street from him. Damn thing would still beep like the battery was dead, even with a new battery.

He also grabbed the old T-shirt he liked to use as a rag. It was pretty used up by now, so he could get rid of it.

When he came back in the house he could hear Lori laughing in the garage. “Oh my god, I couldn't believe it when I heard they got married by Elvis! Who does that? It's sooo tacky.”

“I guess it doesn't matter if they're happy.” Good old Shane.

“Whatever. I bet it's not even legal. Weren't they both drunk? I mean, Rick would totally have to be drunk, right?”

Daryl made sure the battery was brand new in the smoke detector before wrapping it in his old T-shirt and dropping it into the space under the broken step. He then carefully glued the two pieces of wood back together before shooting a few brand new nails in it to hold it.

Gathering up his tools and not bothering to say good bye, he left.

He'd have Rick buy him a new hammer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so I struggled with this chapter and it may not be as funny, but I just couldn't imagine that Daryl wouldn't go back and try to fix stuff. 
> 
> Aaannddd, my high school AU, Lost In The Woods, is approaching 1000 hits! I'm super excited about that! So, as soon as it does I'm going to write another story (chapter?) for it. Yayy!


	6. S'mores and Beer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lookie here kids! We're gonna earn our E! Sorta.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, first, all hail [ArchLucie](http://archiveofourown.org/works/search?utf8=%E2%9C%93&work_search%5Bquery%5D=archlucie) for the extraordinary writer, beta, and bad ass that she is. 
> 
> Second, I have no idea if the KOA in Amarillo has trees or woods nearby, just go with it. Thanks. Also, if you Google the KOA in Amarillo and look at the prices for a tent spot, you will see the inspiration for part of this story. I hope.
> 
> Third, no, this isn't the last chapter. Because this is the story that never ends. Ok, not really. It will end. Eventually. Some day.

It was late when they pulled into the KOA campground in Amarillo. They had run into construction traffic in Arkansas and the old Ford just hadn't been up to the stop and go traffic that went on for miles. It was coughing and chugging for at least a mile before Daryl had to pull over and let the truck cool down before limping it to a parts store for a new radiator.

The parts store didn't have it in stock, but luckily they could order it in and get it there within a few hours. But then it took most of Daryl's money for the part and the expedited delivery.

It had seemed kinda dumb to just hang out at the parts store, so they had walked around the little town of Blue Hill trying to stay busy. Daryl hadn't wanted to spend any money, but Rick didn't seem to have a problem with it, offering to buy lunch even though Daryl thought he could get a rabbit or something right outside of town. Rick seemed to think the locals would frown on Daryl walking around shooting critters. Daryl reminded Rick they were in Arkansas, so the locals wouldn't care.

So here they were, camping at a tent site with no tent to save money. It was going to be a pleasant night, so they were just going to bed down in the back of the truck. Daryl had a blanket behind the seat in case of emergencies and they were going to use their bags for pillows. Well, Rick was, Daryl really didn't need a pillow.

“I'll get some wood,” Rick volunteered.

Daryl shook his head at the lewd thought that went through his head. Rick was driving him crazy. The whole time they'd been stuck in Arkansas waiting on the part for the truck, Rick had been finding excuses to touch him. Grabbing his arm, or touching his hand. And Daryl wasn't sure, but he thought Rick had brushed his hand across his ass on purpose. More than once.

Daryl eyed the two bikes that were in the campsite next to them, a couple of custom Hondas. Not a bike Daryl would chose, but ok bikes. They looked like a matched set, black with blue stripes on the one with a big A, the other with bright green stripes and an E. Daryl would have left off the letters, but what did he know.

While Rick was getting wood, Daryl was unpacking the truck. He got out his crossbow to check it so that he could go hunting for dinner, whether Rick liked it or not, and the blanket and bags.

Once he had everything settled he started wondering where Rick was. He had been gone for long enough to get an arm load of wood by now. Daryl didn't get worried, Rick could take care of himself, but it would be nice to get their fire started before dark.

Hefting the crossbow across his back, he set off for the woods near the camp. Rick would be easy enough to find, he tromped around like a damn elephant. Daryl of course, could sneak up on a bat.

He had just made it into the woods when he saw Rick next to the path, his back to Daryl, but hiding behind a tree. Daryl was just about to call out to him when he heard grunting noises from just beyond Rick. He scuffed his feet in the dirt so Rick would know he was there, and came up behind him to see what the hell Rick was looking at.

Daryl had to bite his lip at the show going on in front of them. Two guys in full on leather gear, leather cop hat on the one a leather harness on the other, were going at it like bunnies in the, well, woods. Daryl figured them to be the A and the E from the bikes. They must have come back here for a quickie.

Daryl had to admit, it was a nice exhibition to see. They were both kinda cute. But, really, the best part of the show was the look on Rick's face. His mouth was hanging open in an O, eyes were glazed over, and there was a faint trickle of saliva running down his chin. Those glazed over eyes seemed to be hypnotized by the sight of the one dude's dick going in and out of the other dude's ass.

Rick still hadn't acknowledged Daryl standing just inches away, so Daryl took full advantage to take in the sight of an aroused Rick Grimes. Because he was aroused, Daryl could plainly see by the hand that Rick had on his dick.

Daryl decided he would press his luck and edged closer to Rick, just a hairs breath away, but that broke the trance. Rick jumped back from the tree, tripping over a root and falling on his ass with a loud “omph!”

Loud enough to startle Ponch and Jon from their tryst, which was sad, because it was hot. But watching the two fall all over each other with their dicks hanging out almost made up for it. The two had their tight leather pants pulled up in about two seconds flat (and how the hell did they do that? Leather was a bitch to put on, especially when you were sweaty. Daryl would know) and gone in less than twenty. Wouldn't they be surprised when they found out who was camping next to them.

Daryl turned back to Rick, who was still sitting on the ground, knees up and head down. Daryl guessed he was trying to think of Lori naked to get rid of his erection. Well, maybe that didn't work on Rick like it did for Daryl. Daryl decided he didn't want to know what Rick used to turn his dick off.

“Did you get any wood?” Daryl asked.

***

Daryl had to help Rick get the wood back to the campsite, Rick had said he'd hurt his hip and that was why he was limping around. Of course, Daryl didn't buy it, but he wouldn't call Rick out on it. Because to be honest, Daryl's “hip” hurt too. That was a porno quality scene back there in the woods.

When they got the fire going they noticed their neighbors were just finishing putting up their tent. They didn't have a fire going, so Daryl decided to invite them over.

“Where are you going?” Rick hissed out, a nervous look on his face.

“Gonna invite them over to the fire,” Daryl explained. He decided he kinda liked a nervous Rick.

“But...”

“They didn't even see us, so shut up about it and they won't know.” That cause Rick to clam up and sit up straight.

Daryl shook his head as he walked the twenty steps to the neighbor's place. Rick was a trip sometimes.

“Hey, ya'll wanna come over to the fire? We got some beer and some rabbit.” Daryl offered.

“That'd be great!” said Ponch, “We have stuff for s'mores if you want.”

Daryl wasn't sure how beer would taste with s'mores, but he nodded his head anyway. He didn't want to be rude.

Ponch nooded over to Jon and the two came over to Rick and Daryl's fire. Luckily they had changed into more normal street clothes, Rick probably would have an aneurysm if he had to sit there with them still in their leathers. His eyes were slightly bugged out of his head at the moment anyway.

The rabbit and the beer were good, the s'mores probably would have been if it weren't for the beer. Daryl found out that Ponch's name was really Aaron, and Jon's name was Eric. They were on a bike trip before going down to South America to dig wells or something. That was five or six beers ago, so ancient history.

“Le' me...let me ask a queshion..” Rick said, turning to Aaron and Eric.

Daryl bit his lip, Rick was really fucking adorable drunk. He was even more handsy and happy, smiling at Daryl like an idiot. And he was only just starting on his fourth beer, he obviously didn't usually drink much.

Aaron and Eric for their part were still nursing their first beer, being more interested in the s'mores. And the way the marshmallow would drizzle on Eric's lips. Daryl thought it was pretty fascinating too, and kept hoping Rick would eat a s'mores.

“How the hell does it (hic) feel good to have a (hic) dick up your ass?”

Note to self, Daryl thought, Rick gets cut off after three beers.

Eric looked to Aaron with wide eyes as Aaron choked a bit on his graham cracker.

“I mean ta say, I know, well I don't know, but I've heard that it feels good. But, come on. There's a dick. Up. Your. Ass.”

“Ok, Rick. You've had enough. Let's get you to bed,” Daryl said as he tried to pull Rick to the truck.

“No, it's ok. I'll answer the question.” Aaron motioned for Daryl to sit back down.

Aaron cleared his throat and looked at Eric as he spoke, “It can hurt, but if you do it right it can feel amazing.”

“Yeah, but how?' Rick prodded at Aaron to get to the point.

“I was getting to that! So, you know you have a prostate, right?”

Rick nodded his head wobbly, “Doctor always likes lookin' fer it.”

“Right well, basically it's on the back side of your, um, dick and it feels good when it gets massaged.”

“Is that why I get a boner when the doc is digging aroun' in there?”

“Um, yeah. I guess.” Aaron looked over to Eric who looked a bit traumatized at this point.

Daryl didn't blame him. The thought of some dude having his hand up Rick's ass was rather troubling to Daryl. But maybe that wasn't why the little biker dude was upset.

“Come on, let's get you to bed,” Daryl tried again.

This time Rick let himself be pulled away from the fire, a salacious grin on his face. “You jus' wanna get me in bed again.”

“Yep. Let's go.” Daryl didn't see any reason to lie.

“Wai...wait, I gotta piss.”

With a sigh Daryl steered Rick away from the truck and to a nearby tree.

“Noo peekin' now.” Rick smiled at Daryl and wagged his finger.

Daryl wouldn't peek, just make sure Rick didn't piss all over himself. That wasn't peeking, that was being a good friend. And Daryl really wanted to be a good friend.

Rick did a fine job of not pissing on himself, maybe just a bit of back-splash on his boots. The moaning, though, was enough to make Daryl blush. Why did this guy treat pissing like having an orgasm? Rick didn't bother to do up his pants, but at least he tucked back in. Daryl wouldn't have been able to resist a peek if he hadn't.

It only took three tries to get Rick up and into the bed of the truck, his open fly hindering the process. Daryl may have aciddently-on-purpose copped a feel while shoving Rick into the truck. Rick had such a sweet little ass.

Once he had Rick settled, Daryl went back to the fire to clean up and tell their neighbors good night. Aaron and Eric were still there, wrapped around each other and making adorable little love noises. They were so caught up in each other they didn't notice Daryl come back until he dropped a beer can into the fire.

The two love birds broke apart, Eric giving Daryl a dirty look, “You have a bad habit of interrupting.”

“Ya'll have a bad habit of being in public,” Daryl replied.

“Right, ok. We're off to bed then,” Aaron said as he stood up. Eric followed after and soon they were back to their own camp.

Daryl finished picking up the detritus from the night and covered the fire with dirt. He walked around again to make sure everything was tidy before going and marking the same tree that Rick had. He had to concentrate on what he was doing because just remembering Rick standing here and moaning just a few minutes ago was doing bad things to little Daryl.

When he got back to the truck he found Rick laying on his side with a hand down his pants, not surprising really, considering the conversation from earlier. What was surprising was that his hand was down the back of his pants.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Lookin' for m'prostrate,” Rick answered.

“Jesus H. Christ. Get yer hand out of your ass,” Daryl ordered.

“I can't find it! They said it would feel good. Help m'find it Daryl?”

Daryl could hear laughter coming from the neighbor's place, so he knew those two had heard. He just hoped the whole damn campground hadn't. Rick was going to be the death of him, Daryl just knew it.

“Man, I ain't digging around in your drunk ass. Now get your fingers out of there and go to sleep.” Daryl said as he climbed into the back of the truck.

Rick rolled over to look at Daryl with heart breakingly cute puppy dog eyes, “Please Daryl? I bet you could find it for me.”

Daryl licked his lips and thought hard about Lori naked again. But then Rick snuggled up to him and put his head in the crook of Daryl's neck and breathed out another “Please”. And how the hell could he say no to that.

“I ain't gonna go digger in your ass for ya, but I'll help ya,” Daryl capitulated.

Reaching his hand down the back of Rick's pants, he grabbed the hand that was working its self around in Rick's ass. Daryl breathed out a long breath to concentrate and then manipulated Rick's fingers until Rick gave out a yelp and bucked his hips.

“Fuck!” Rick yelled causing the neighbors to scream with laughter.

Daryl wouldn't be able to show his face to them tomorrow, but it was just about worth it, because Rick was rutting against Daryl's thigh in rhythm to the movements of his hand. And wasn't that something.

“Oh my god! This is, ugh, uhn, oh!” And then Rick was seizing up and breathing hard with his eyes squeezed closed in bliss.

“Fuck, that was awesome. Gonna have to try your dick next time.”

“What?” Daryl was not expecting that, but Rick was already snoring next to him. Typical male, asleep as soon as he got off and leaving their partner high and dry.

“Mother fucker,” Daryl muttered as he slid from the truck to go take care of little Daryl in the woods. He only stopped long enough to throw a forgotten beer can at the neighbor's place, startling a yelp out of one of them. Damn eavesdroppers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo, what'd you think? I kinda like Drunk!Rick, he's a hoot. Sorry the story is slowing down with the posting, real life and all that rot. I'm on the Tumblr if you wanna say hi or something.
> 
> Forgot to add this, [ChiPs](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/CHiPs) If you don't know who Ponch and Jon are.


	7. It's a Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You guys are gonna hate me...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rick and Daryl get a reception. 
> 
> It's totally not as funny, but there are feels now. Which is just as good, right?
> 
> As always, thanks to the loverly [ArchLucie](http://archiveofourown.org/works/search?utf8=%E2%9C%93&work_search%5Bquery%5D=archlucie) , she's the bestest.

“Thanks again Michonne, didn't know we needed to have a party,” Rick said as he took a long drink of the fancy imported beer that Andrea had bought. He'd have been happy with a Budweiser, but they were in short supply at this shindig.

“No problem Rick,” Michonne said, looking around at all the other guests, eyes stopping on a certain blonde.

Rick was impressed with how many people had shown up to their 'reception' that Michonne and Carol had insisted they have, even if he and Daryl were going to get this damn marriage annulled. Maybe. No, definitely...maybe.

Maggie and Glenn were sucking face over on the swing set, Rick was surprised the swing could hold both their weight. Carol was meandering over by the grill where T-dog was flipping burgers. Andrea had just gone into the house for more beers and Merle had just come in the back gate.

Michonne had said she'd invited Lori and Shane too, Rick wasn't sure if that was a good idea. But knowing Michonne she'd just done it to piss Lori off. Carl wasn't coming, he was staying at a friends house and Rick was just fine with that. 

Rick looked over to where Daryl was now talking to his brother Merle. The asshat looked to be having a good time drinking and laughing with Daryl. Merle was still under the impression it was all a big joke.

And it was. A big joke, that is. They were going Wednesday to get the annulment. Maybe Thursday, they were both pretty busy this week.

Monday was no good because Rick had to look for a new place to stay, Daryl having let him crash on his couch for the last few days. He'd been staying with Shane before Vegas, but it had gotten awkward after Rick had found out Shane was sniffing around Lori (more power to him). And since Rick was married. Not really married, but yeah, married. 

Tuesday Daryl said he had a  _thing_ , but he wouldn't tell Rick what it was. Something to do with a bike. Or a hike, he wasn't sure. He just knew Daryl said he was unavailable.

So, Wednesday it was. Maybe. If Rick could find a place to stay that wasn't Shane or Daryl's. Shane had offered to let him come back, but Rick thought it best to move on, Lori certainly had. Rick couldn't blame her, seeing as he'd run off to Vegas to get married.   

But it was a joke, just a little crazy thing they did in Vegas, 'cause that's what you did in Las Vegas, right? Crazy things you wouldn't normally do. Like get married to one of your best friends. As a joke.

“Ohhhh, let me see the ring!” Carol gushed over Rick, interrupting his musings. 

Rick obliged and held up his ring like a newly minted fiancé with a diamond engagement ring. Even if it was a wedding band instead, it still had a rather impressive diamond for a man's ring.

The whole thing was embarrassingly large and ostentatious. He should take it off. After the party.

“Wow, it's so big!” Carol still had a tight grip on Rick's hand as she turned it this way and that, taking in all the detail work.

“I'm sure that's what Rick said when he first saw  _it,_ ” said Michonne with a smirk.

Carol's face twisted up into an identical smirk, “I'm sure.”

Rick snatched his hand away and walked over to where Daryl was still laughing with his brother, draining his beer on the way. He was going to need a lot more beer to get through this.

“That is the best story I ever heard!” Merle was laughing still. As far as Rick could tell the guy had two moods too happy or too pissed. “She ain't never gonna find that thing!”

“Find what?” Rick asked as he stepped up next to Daryl (but not too close), and joined the conversation.

“So Officer Friendly, you and my baby brother got hitched in Vegas and didn't tell poor 'ol Merle about it.”

“Told ya Merle, we was just drunk and it was a joke,” Daryl told his brother.

Rick licked his lips as he watched Daryl talk to his brother. His  _husband_  had dressed up for the occasion and was wearing his best pair of black Levi's and a dark button up with the sleeves ripped out. Daryl's shoulders were so broad, he had a tough time with finding shirts that were wide enough, but not too big around his waist. Rick only knew this because Carol had told him, he thinks. Certainly not because he'd paid attention to Daryl's wardrobe.

Daryl was giving him a similar look, taking in Rick's low slung blue Levi's and slim fit plaid shirt. It was just the next thing on the laundry pile, he hadn't picked it out because he knew it showed off his abs and chest. Nope, not at all.

“Pft, joke all right,” Merle huffed as he got up and went sniffing after Andrea. Maybe one day he'd figure out he was barking up the wrong tree there.

Rick realized that he was alone with Daryl by the gate, everyone else on the patio (or making out on the swing). He licked his lips again and looked at his friend. Because he was still his friend, these wedding bands made no difference.

Rick twisted the ring on his finger, “I guess we could pawn them or something.”

Daryl bit his lip and nodded his head.

“I mean, we got 'em from a pawn shop, so it just seems like the thing ta do. Right?”

“Don't have to get rid of it.” Daryl looked away, towards the woods beyond the fence.

“But it cost a fortune,” Rick protested, “Surely you want your money back?”

“It was a gift.”

“It was a joke!” Rick said a little too loud, causing all the guests to turn their way. Damn nosey Nellies.

“Yeah, but you were havin' a tough time and it made you smile.”

“I need a beer,” Rick pronounced and turned and made a beeline for the cooler that Andrea had brought out, he didn't want to think too much about what Daryl had meant.

*

Rick was on his third beer (Daryl giving him increasingly alarmed looks with each sip he took) when Shane showed up. Alone.

Carol had assured him earlier that Lori would be there and was going to have Shane bring her.

“Where's Lori?” Rick asked, ignoring the look Daryl gave him.

“Man, she ain't been sleeping so good. She's plumb wore out,” Shane said as he accepted a beer from Andrea, not so subtly checking out her ass. Rick was pretty sure Shane was barking up the wrong tree there, but Michonne was looking at Shane's ass and licking her lips, so maybe not. "Says she keeps hearing a beep at night. I think bein' in that house alone's gettin' to her."

Rick wasn't so sure what Merle was cackling with T-Dog about behind him, but what ever it was must have been hilarious because Daryl was giving that little smile of his and trying to duck his head so no one would see it.

But Rick saw it and his tummy did a funny little thing. He decided he needed another beer to make his stomach calm down.

He was just reaching for his fourth beer when Daryl sidled up to him, “You know, I don't mind ya drinking, you're damn cute when you're drunk, but I don't think you want everyone else to see what happens.”

And then the last week and a half hit him like a flash. The night at the crappy hotel with the fucking Bronies, when he'd woken up to Daryl holding him. The night they'd spent in the back of the truck (and didn't that make him blush). And  _that_  night.

Rick took a deep breath and looked deep into Daryl's eyes, “Maybe. Maybe it's just them I don't want seein'.”

“Yeah, is that so Rick Grimes?”

“I think so,  _Daryl Grimes.”_

Daryl growled at the name. It had been part of the joke, for Daryl to take Rick's name. It wasn't official, he hadn't gone and changed his name or anything, but he could.

“Come on you two! You had yer damn honeymoon! Quit making googly eyes.” Merle cut through their moment like a bull in a china shop.

Rick fished his beer out and was about to pop the lid when Merle shook a whiskey bottle in front of him.

“Time to move on to the good stuff.”

Rick eyed the bottle of Maker's and thought about what would happen if he drank some. Then he looked at Daryl and wondered why it would take drinking liquor for him to do what he really wanted.

He'd just have one shot.

“Hell yeah! Got the good stuff out!” Shane called out.

"I'm down with that!" T-Dog chimed in. 

“I'll get some shot glasses and we can toast to your nuptials,” Michonne volunteered.

Everyone started gathering around on the patio, talking and joking about Rick and Daryl's surprise wedding. Shane nudging Glenn suggestively, because Glenn really should have asked Maggie by now. Carol and T-dog were standing pretty close as well. And dumb ass Merle was still trying to get Andrea to pay him some attention. How he missed that Andrea and Michonne were an item was beyond his slightly inebriated brain at the moment.

Michonne came out with a wide assortment of 'shot glasses', some of which were more like tumblers, but beggars can't be choosers. Merle dutifully put an ounce of the amber liquid in each glass, except for Rick and Daryl's, they got a double shot.

“There weren't no best man for a speech!” Merle realized.

“I'll do it!” Michonne offered, and no one objected.

She held up her glass and waited for everyone else to do so before saying, “To Rick and Daryl. Although you ran off to Vegas and got married and left us all in the dark to your secret love affair,” Michonne paused for the laughter to die down, “we still love you both and wish you the happiest of marriages. Even if it's only going to last another forty-eight hours.”

And everyone drank, followed by more laughter and some back slapping for Rick and Daryl. Rick took it good naturedly, Daryl not so much. He really did hate being touched, except for when Rick did it. Rick had noticed. Daryl would lean into him, and Rick always found himself leaning back.

Rick decided he needed more whiskey.

Merle was happy to oblige and gave Rick another double shot. Rick gulped it down, enjoying the warmth of the liquor as it worked it's way down his throat. He should probably stop drinking now, everything was starting to get fuzzy.

“Hey, Rick. You had enough man?”

Rick looked at the two Daryls in front of him. They were really fucking cute. What with their mole like Marilyn Monroe and shit. And fuck he had pretty blue eyes.

“Ok Rick, everyone knows I got blue eyes. Let's get you home.”

Merle musta told another joke, 'cause everybody was laughing again.

Rick pouted, “Ain't got a home.”

“You're stayin' with me, remember?” One of the Daryls asked him.

“That's right! Damn nice thang you're doin for me.”

“Yeah, come on.” Daryl carefully worked Rick to the gate, having to stop for everyone to give them a hug or a handshake before they made it out of Andrea's back yard.

Daryl poured Rick into the passenger seat of Rick's jeep and then waited the five minutes while Rick dug around in his pocket for the key. It was a good thing it was a warm night since Rick had taken the top off the Jeep, but it would be a windy ride.

Rick was quiet on the way to Daryl's house. Something Rick knew Daryl would appreciate. It was hard enough for him to talk and it was even harder in a loud Jeep. Rick was lost in thought, and that wasn't always a good thing, but maybe tonight it would be.

By the time they got to Daryl's place Rick had sobered up enough that he could get out of the Jeep without stumbling. Daryl let Rick follow him to the door, and then held it open for his drunk friend. 

But Rick got right up next to Daryl, in his space, breathing in his air.

Daryl put a hand out, palm landing on Rick's tight stomach. And, oh, what that did to Rick. He closed his eyes and let out a hard breath, his head falling back.

“Fuck Rick, don't do that man.”

Rick's eyes shot open and found Daryl's. Eyes that were wide and slightly glazed, just like he figured his own were. Rick pushed the door shut as he pushed farther into Daryl's space.

Maybe he was drunk, maybe it was just liquid courage, but he knew he wanted this, wanted it right now. He even knew they'd been here before, hesitant, needy, wanting more than just friends.

“C'mon Rick, you've been drinking. You should get some sleep and sober up.” But Daryl's hand was still on Rick's stomach like it belonged there.

“Ain't that drunk.”

Daryl licked his lips and tried again, ”It's a joke man, just to make Lori mad. Remember?”

“I remember.”

Rick put a hand on Daryl's hip, pulling him closer, “What do _you_ remember, Daryl?  Tell me I just imagined you grinding my ass in that hotel. Tell me I dreamed that you let me grind against you in the back of your pickup.”

Daryl shook his head, he wouldn't lie.

"Tell me what happened in that hotel room in Vegas was just tequila and bad Mexican."

Daryl's hand drifted down from Rick's stomach to his hip, grasping it tight, "Got nothin' to tell you that you don't already know, Rick."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh, poor kids. I still haven't written the wedding night. But I really, really think it will be next. Probably. :D


	8. Elvis and Alcohol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, this is the wedding _day_ , not the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have absolutely no idea how poker is played in Vegas.
> 
> Thanks, as always, to the luminescent [ArchLucie](http://archiveofourown.org/works/search?utf8=%E2%9C%93&work_search%5Bquery%5D=archlucie) .

They finally limped into Vegas the next day, Daryl stopping to put water in the radiator every hundred miles or so. Even though he'd put in a new one, it still wasn't working as well as it could. He suspected a bad water pump was to blame.

Rick was trying hard not to think about what he had done in the back of said pick up truck last night. Daryl hadn't mentioned it, and Rick sure as hell wouldn't. He'd had to run straight to the primitive shower as soon as he'd woken up that morning. Besides being hung over, he had some pretty gnarly spunk all over himself. And he did NOT want to contemplate what happened to his fingers on his left hand.

“S'not as big as I thought it would be,” Daryl said as he rubbernecked at the casinos they drove by.

“Yeah, they make it look bigger on TV, don't they?” Rick replied as he watched Daryl with amusement.

Both men startled at the horn that honked behind them, Daryl giving the guy in the POS Dodge behind them the finger as he pulled into the first hotel entrance they passed.

Before Daryl knew what was happening a valet had opened his door and waited expectantly for the redneck to get out. Daryl gave him the side eye pretty hard, but got out when Rick opened his own door.

Daryl blinked as the guy held out his hand.

“He needs the key so he can go park it,” Rick informed him.

“Right,” Daryl said, handing over the key.

Rick shook his head as he grabbed his bag from behind the seat of the truck. This was going to be fun.

Luckily there weren't any strange conventions going on, so they got a room easy enough. Not so lucky was the price of the room. Daryl was all for leaving and finding a motel 8 or 6 or 9 or whatever, but Rick just pulled out his card and said he would pay since he hadn't paid for any gas.

They had a small room with two queen beds on the second floor. It was right next to the elevator so they would get to listen to the damn thing ding at all hours of the night. Daryl took the bed next to the window and Rick got the one next to the door.

Rick smiled and chuckled, “This'll be the first night we've slept apart on this trip.”

Daryl licked his lips and nodded. He was a bit sad about that, but Rick didn't need to know.

“You ready to eat?” Daryl asked. “They got a $5 buffet around here somewhere.”

“Yeah, I could eat.” Rick gave Daryl a long look before following him out the door.

They found a buffet that was actually $7.95, but Daryl figured the extra $2.95 was for the sad little shrimp that was offered. He wouldn't eat shrimp on a good day. The little fuckers were the roaches of the sea and he wasn't eatin' 'em.

Rick didn't have any qualms about it and got a little bit of everything. Maybe it was because there wasn't anyone to nag him about what he could and couldn't eat. His plate was heaping.

They ate in silence, and it was nice. Daryl keeping an eye on the folks around them (mostly older folks and obvious tourists) and one eye on Rick. Rick had one eye on Daryl's plate and one eye on the folks around them.

“S'that all you're gonna eat?” he finally asked.

Daryl looked down at this plate. He'd gotten some pasta, a little salad, and a thin little T-bone.

“Was thinking about dessert.”

Rick shook his head and chuckled (he seemed to do that a lot around Daryl), “It's all you can eat, get some more. Eat something you wouldn't normally eat.”

Daryl looked over to the buffet tables. There was a lot of food there, and certainly some he hadn't eaten before, but he just couldn't see stuffing himself just for the sake of doing it.

“Nah, I'm all right.”

“Suit yourself,” Rick said as he dug into what looked to be taquitos and rice.

Daryl finished his plate and then went in search of dessert and found peanut butter pie and chocolate chip cookies. He looked over at Rick who was still happily shoving food in his mouth and decided he would get the banana pudding too.

Rick outright laughed this time, “I see, you were saving room for dessert.”

Daryl quirked his lip up and nodded his head. He could eat treats for every meal. Maybe it was from not having much as a kid, but he loved them.

Rick finished most of his plate and left to get more, coming back with another plateful of Mexican.

Daryl had a sneaking suspicion that Rick would regret eating all that later, but he'd let Rick figure that out.

After Daryl had finished his plates, and stuffed a spare cookie in his pocket, he was ready to go see what this hotel had to offer. They hadn't brought swim trunks, so no swimming in the pool, and they hadn't brought any fancy clothes, so no clubbing.

They were wandering around the game floor when Daryl saw a table for poker. Tapping Rick's arm to get his attention, he walked over to see there was a dealer and two guys playing.

“We need to get some chips first,” Rick told him.

Daryl nodded his head and looked around for the casino cage, sticking a hand in his pocket to pull out the dwindling wad of cash he had. He had just enough to get a decent size stack of chips, Rick got the same amount, Daryl suspecting he could have gotten more.

They went back to the table they had spied before, Daryl sitting next to a large red-head that looked like he was on leave from the military and Rick sitting next to a woman with her hair in pony tails.

A waitress came over to take their drink order, Daryl surprised that the drinks would be free. Rick ordered a scotch and water, Daryl ordered a rum and Coke.

Rick was clearly out of his element, loosing most of his money in just a few minutes. But Daryl was perfectly at home, winning most of his hands easily, the little pile of clay chips at his elbow growing quickly.

Presently, a man in a suit showed up. Rick thought he was there to talk to the dealer, but the man stopped next to Daryl. Rick quickly got worried, surely they didn't think Daryl had done anything wrong?

Daryl startled and looked up at the man, ”I ain't cheatin'.”

“No, sir. You are playing exceptionally well. The hotel would like to take you to another table, perhaps with a more challenging group.”

The red-head growled at that, but Daryl just smirked and looked over to Rick. Draining his rum and Coke, Daryl stood up to follow the man, Rick trailing after.

They were taken to a smaller, quieter room and to a table that consisted of a well dressed cowboy and a jack hole with an eye patch. Rick disliked him on sight.

The jack hole sneered at Daryl while the cowboy shook hands.

“I guess they'll just let anybody in the back room anymore,” Eye-patch said.

“Obviously,” Rick countered as he gave the jerk his best side eye.

Jack hole didn't like that too much, but Rick didn't care. Daryl hadn't asked to come here, he'd been invited, so he certainly deserved to be there.

“All right gentlemen, the buy in is $500,” the dealer said.

Rick choked a bit at that, he hadn't really paid attention to how much Daryl had won at the other table. Daryl paled a bit too, but handed over the appropriate amount of chips. Rick was impressed with how many chips Daryl still had after that. Rick wasn't playing, so they sat him a bit away from the table.

Rick checked his watch, noting that it was only 2:30 in the afternoon. He always figured poker was played late at night in smoky backrooms, but there was no smoking in the hotel and it was too early to start drinking back home.

That got him to thinking about what he had left at home. Mostly Carl, but he'd called him a couple of times already and he was fine at a friend's house. Lori had tried to call, but he'd just ignored her calls. He'd talked to Shane once, just to let him know he'd be gone a few more days than he planned.

Not that Rick minded. He looked over at Daryl who was busy giving jack hole his best squinty-eyed glare. He must have said something Rick had missed because Daryl looked pretty pissed.

Rick looked over to jack hole, and saw that his one malevolent eye was on Rick. Rick quirked an eyebrow at the creeper, his face clearly saying, 'You got a problem, buddy?'

Jack hole stuck out his hand, “Phillip Blake.”

Rick and Daryl both ignored it, but Rick still introduced them to the jerk. “I'm Rick. And the guy that's going to take your money is Daryl.”

“We'll see about that.”

Rick hoped Daryl kept up his winning streak, if for no other reason than to show up the ass hat. By the look that Daryl was giving his opponent, he was planning on it.

A waitress came in the room and brought replacement drinks for the cowboy and Phillip before taking Rick and Daryl's order. She did a great job of keeping their glasses full from then on, Rick didn't even remember his glass getting below the halfway mark at any time.

So he was pretty sloshed by the time Phillip threw his cards on the table and walked out. Daryl had lost the first two hands, one to the cowboy and one to the jack hole before going on a streak and winning six (or was it seven) hands in a row. The cowboy won one more before Daryl cleaned up and took most of the chips on the table.

Rick gave a lazy smile to Daryl, thrilled to see his friend triumph. Daryl smiled back as he raked his chips into a pile.

The dealer spoke up and said, “Sir, if you would like, I can have someone hold those for you.”

Daryl looked at the man suspiciously, and then back at the pile. It was pretty substantial, with a wide variety of colors represented. Rick really hadn't paid attention to what all those colors actually meant, he just knew it was a bunch of money.

“Sir, I guarantee that your money will be safe.”

That seemed to satisfy Daryl, so after taking a handful and shoving them in the pocket of his worn jeans, he pushed the rest back to the dealer.

“Just show your ID at a cage when you are ready to check out. Also, I must warn you that since you have won a substantial amount, you will need to claim the winnings on your taxes.”

Daryl nodded his head and motioned for Rick to follow him out. Rick stood and wavered a bit, those were some pretty stiff drinks. Daryl's hand darted out to steady him and Rick leaned into him gratefully, a wide smile on his face. The focus of his smile licked his lips and took a deep breath before pulling Rick to the door.

They stopped at the cage to change out the chips that Daryl had grabbed before leaving the gaming room. Rick's eyes crossed as he saw a wad of hundreds pass to Daryl. And to think he'd left most of his winnings for the casino to hold onto.

“Let's get you some fresh air,” Daryl told him as they looked for the exit. It was hard to find while wondering through the maze of slot machines. The loud noises and bright flashing from the machines making Rick's head spin.

The fresh air did help, but Rick knew he was still a bit drunk. He'd been drunk twice now on this trip, but maybe it was ok since he was celebrating his divorce.

Daryl picked a direction and started walking, not really having a goal in mind. There were a lot of people on the street so Rick stayed glued to Daryl's side. Daryl didn't seem to mind, reaching a hand out every once in a while to touch Rick's arm or his hip to keep him close.

They passed one of those quickie wedding chapels and Rick couldn't help but laugh out loud.

“What?” Daryl asked him.

“Just thinking how funny it would be if I came back from this trip married. Isn't that what people do? Run off to Vegas to get married?” Rick looked back at Daryl who was shaking his head.

“You get some strange notions, Rick Grimes. Who are you going to marry? Find you a coctail waitress or show girl?”

“Nah, they'd take too long to convince and I don't think they would see the humor like you would.”

“Is that a proposal?”

“Sure, why not.” Rick's smile was lopsided this time, beautiful enough to make a grown man cry.

“Shut up you idiot,” Daryl said with a shove to Rick's shoulder.

“No, come on! It'll be great! We can send pictures to Carol and she can show Lori! I just wish I could be there to see her face!”

“And then what? We stay married? I don't want to be the laughing stock of the Dixon family and have a crazy wedding in Vegas and then have to get a quickie divorce.” Daryl was trying to keep his tone light.

“No, we can get it annulled, no problem,” Rick assured him, “But if it makes you feel better, you can take my name.”

“I don't know Rick, always thought of myself as an independent man. Never thought I'd take my spouses name.”

“You can hyphenate it. Grimes-Dixon.” Rick was really getting into the fantasy now, his eyes were glazed over with the humor in it all.

“Nah, sounds pretentious.” Daryl shook his head and wrinkled up his nose in mock disgust.

“Well, I would want everyone to know you were mine, so you'll just have to take my name.”

It took Daryl a few minutes to process that statement. “We don't even have rings.”

Rick looked across the street and pointed to a pawn shop, Daryl sighed resignedly. How the hell could he say no to Rick when he was so exuberant? He would probably regret this in the morning.

The pawn shop had a surprising number of men's wedding bands on display, but on second thought, maybe it wasn't so surprising. It was Vegas after all.

“What can I get you gentlemen?” the man behind the counter asked.

“We're looking for wedding bands.”

“For your fiances?”

And Rick fucking giggled, looked at Daryl and said, “Yeah.”

The man behind the counter, Bob according to his name tag, arched an eyebrow and said, “Ah, I see. Would you like matching bands?”

Rick smiled at the man and dug out his wallet, but his smile soon turned to a frown when he saw how little money was left in there.

“I got it,” Daryl offered as he dug his wad of newly won money from his pocket.

“No, I want to buy your ring,” Rick said with a pout.

“Damn, Rick. It's a joke, ain't nobody gonna care who paid for what.”

“I'll care.” And damn if that didn't break Daryl's heart.

“I don't want no damn fancy ring any way. It'd just get in the way.” Daryl looked at the row of rings and searched for a thin little band. “Here, this one.”

Bob took the ring out of the display so that Daryl could look at it, Rick looking over his shoulder.

“You sure man?” Rick asked him.

“Yeah, it's perfec,” Daryl said with a nod.

“Ok, I'll take it,” Rick told Bob with a smile.

While Rick and Bob were taking care of buying the ring, Daryl looked over the display again. He knew it was just a joke, but he wanted to buy Rick the kind of ring he deserved. His eyes settled on a wider band with a brilliant diamond in the center. It was platinum and the diamond looked flawless.

He looked over his shoulder to check on Rick and saw that he was still talking to Bob at a cash register. Daryl then looked around for another sales person, feeling slightly guilty for taking a sale away from the person who had helped them, but not wanting Rick to know how much he was going to spend on this ring.

By the time Daryl had found someone to ring him up (at a different register), Rick was back looking for his own ring.

“I already got it,” Daryl told him.

“How'd you know which one I wanted?” Rick asked him.

“Just do.”

The sun was just starting it's descent for the night as they walked back up the street in search of the wedding chapel they had passed earlier. Rick was smiling softly to himself, Daryl biting his lip nervously.

They were just passing a liquor store when Daryl decided he needed some more liquid courage. He veered off their path to go into the store, Rick hot on his heels.

Daryl wandered around looking for something to catch his eye when he noticed an Elvis impersonator also shopping in the store. He had a bottle of peach brandy and a bottle of peach schnapps. Daryl was all set to just walk on by (the man had peach schnapps for shit's sake), but Rick had to stop him.

“Hey! Elvis man! We're getting hitched! Want to come along? Sing at our wedding?” Rick's infectious smile grew with each question.

Elvis looked over to Daryl with a raised eyebrow. Daryl pulled out his dwindling wad of hundreds for the now smiling Elvis.

“Elvis would love to come to your wedding!” the man said.

“Great!” Rick smile was now so bright Daryl had too look away.

Quickly grabbing a bottle of tequila, he headed toward the register, “Great,” he echoed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnddd, still no Rickyl smexy times. But, hey, Elvis finally showed up! :)
> 
> This is Rick's ring [here](http://www.jamesallen.com/wedding-rings/mens-diamond/platinum-7mm-baguette-diamond-men's-wedding-band-item-798)
> 
> This is Daryl's ring [here](http://www.jcpenney.com/dotcom/best-value-4mm-silver-domed-mens-wedding-ring/prod.jump?ppId=1dc3c80&catId=WebID)


	9. The Honeymoon Suite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vegas, anyone? Daryl and Rick tie the knot. Awww...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish everyone could have an [ArchLucie](http://archiveofourown.org/works/search?utf8=%E2%9C%93&work_search%5Bquery%5D=archlucie), just not mine (But [MermaidSheenaz](http://archiveofourown.org/users/MermaidSheenaz/pseuds/MermaidSheenaz) may have had her first). Because she is awesome. 
> 
> Also, we are _sooooo_ close to the smut you can almost smell the latex.

Rick was happily chatting to Elvis on their way back to the wedding chapel, telling him all about his brilliant idea to marry Daryl just to piss off Lori.

Elvis looked back at Daryl, a question in his eye. Daryl shook his head, no, he was not going there. He was just doing this for Rick. As a joke. Because it was funny.

“Did ya'll get your license yet?” Elvis asked the Georgia boys.

“Shit! No!” Rick bemoaned.

“No problem, the clerk's office is just down the road a bit and all you have to do is show your ID.”

“That's it?” Daryl asked him.

“Well, your intended here has to provide the date of his divorce, but other than that, that's it.”

“Nice,” Rick's smile was going to get Daryl in trouble one of these days. Come to think of it, this was one of those days.

In one of the fastest government transactions Daryl had ever done, Rick and Daryl got a license to get married in Clark County Nevada. And it only cost sixty dollars.

The wedding chapel was a little white building with obnoxious hearts and roses all over the place. There was a waiting room and a room with an alter beyond it. There were already quite a few people waiting to be married, so they would have to wait. Elvis suggested they go wait outside as it was a pleasant evening.

“I think this calls for a drink!” Rick proposed and Elvis seconded it by whipping out his bottle of schnapps.

Daryl shook his head, of all the Elvises (Elvisi ?) in Vegas, they had to get a lush. Of course, Daryl always thought you had to be a little off to want to impersonate Elvis, so drinking must help them cope.

This Elvis was such a good drinker that he happened to have three shot glasses on his person that he brought out for them to use. He filled one to the brim with schnapps and set the other two on the little picnic table they were waiting at. Daryl dutifully filled a glass of tequila for Rick and himself.

“To the happy couple!” Elvis toasted.

“Hear, hear!” Rick replied and shot his tequila.

Daryl drained his as well, smirking at Rick's screwed up face. He knew Rick would want another, even if it tasted like shit. Although, Daryl  _had_  bought the good stuff. There was even an actual worm sitting in the bottom of the bottle.  Daryl had never actually gotten to the the worm in a bottle of tequila before, and he wasn't planning on doing it now.

They had another shot as Elvis told them all about the famous and not so famous people he'd seen get married. He kept looking between the two, giving Daryl a funny look. Presently, their names were called and they went into the little chapel, Elvis leading the way. Rick got a little ahead of them, he was so eager. Elvis turned to look at Daryl again.

“What?”

“Just wondered if you really want to go through with this.”

“Why wouldn't I? His ex'll be pissed and it'll be funny.” Daryl kept his eyes trained on Rick as he hurried to the front of the chapel.

“It's not fair to you, man. He doesn't see it, but I do.”

Daryl's eyes whipped back to the guy in the spangly white jumpsuit, “I don't need no advise from a man who dresses up like a dead guy for a living.”

“Well, fuck you too.” Elvis huffed and turned around and headed the way Rick had gone.

Daryl shook his head and tromped on down the aisle, checking his pocket to make sure he still had the ring.

Luckily the officiant had altered vows that were for two guys so there wasn't any awkwardness. Well, there was plenty of awkwardness, but nothing about either one of them being a girl or obeying or any of that horse shit.

Rick said his vows and put Daryl's ring on first, his fingers brushing along Daryl's in a warm caress. The simple band felt nice on his finger. Daryl had never worn jewelry before, but he could live with this. It would only be for a few days any way. 

Daryl dug Rick's ring out of his pocket when it was his turn to present the ring, cupping it in his hand until it was time to put it on Rick's finger. Daryl quickly whispered his vows, feeling silly with a fucking Elvis watching and singing 'Love Me Tender' softly in the background. Rick gasped when he saw the platinum and diamond ring slide on his finger. Even Elvis faltered and gasped before Daryl gave him the side eye.

“Daryl?” Rick questioned, “This must have cost a fortune.”

“Nah. Wasn't too much.”

“More than what I paid for yours.”

“ 'S what I wanted.”

“Daryl...”

“Rick, we're in the middle of the ceremony, can it wait?”

Rick looked over to the woman who was watching them expectantly and nodded his head slowly.

They finished reciting the vows quickly now as the mood in the room had changed a bit. It was more serious, like this was real. Like it wasn't a joke. Like it was the start of something bigger than the two of them.

Daryl got a sharp ping low in his stomach when they were finally told to kiss. He hadn't been thinking about this for too long. Just for forever. What if Rick didn't like it? What if Daryl didn't like it?

Pft, like that was going to happen.  

And then their lips met. Daryl was all for a chaste peck, but Rick seemed to want the full experience and pulled Daryl close. Daryl gasped at the electric jolt that ran through his body as Rick opened his mouth to deepen the kiss. Rick took advantage and plunged his tongue in Daryl's mouth, caressing deep inside as his hands pulled Daryl closer.

Daryl was lost. He would never recover from this kiss. No other kiss would ever feel this way. It wasn't even sexual. It was coming home. It was the beginning of his existence, the end of his past. It was Rick.

And it was over. Rick's face inches away, a stunned look on his face. Daryl couldn't look, didn't want to see the shock, the disgust. Because surely Rick knew now. Knew why Daryl had even agreed to this farce in the first place. Would know that Daryl only wanted this so he could say that Rick had been his, even for just a moment.

Daryl realized the whole room was quiet and looked around to see the shock on Elvis and the woman's faces.

“What the hell are you looking at? Are we done here?” He asked the shocked woman.

“Um, yeah. Just, just need to sign the papers on the way out.”

Daryl turned and stomped out, not even caring if Rick was behind him. He looked at the tequila bottle that had waited for them by the desk in the front office. He had doubts the thing would last until midnight, let alone until morning. Fuck it, he was gonna eat that damn worm. 

Rick was still in high spirits when they got back to the hotel, laughing about how pissed Lori would be when she found out. Daryl hadn't noticed, but Rick had given his phone to Elvis and he had taken a bunch of pictures and was now laughing hysterically at his phone.

Daryl wasn't that interested. They would just be a bittersweet reminder of what Daryl could never have. Not that he wanted  _Rick_ , just someone to love. Definitely not Rick. Damn, he couldn't even lie to himself. 

*

“Mr. Dixon sir!”

“Pft,  _Grimes_ ,” Rick chuckled behind Daryl as they walked through the hotel lobby.

Daryl gave Rick a sour look as he stopped to wait for the man that was running them down. It was the same man that had moved them to a higher stakes poker table.

“Mr. Dixon sir, I would like to congratulate you on your winnings this afternoon.”

“Um, thanks?”

“And the hotel would like to extend the courtesy of upgrading your room while you stay with us,” the man said with a big smile.

“Don't need a different room. Fine where we are.”

“Now sweetheart, don't be turning down a wedding gift,” Rick's drawl was sugary sweet.

Daryl was going to kill Rick before they left Vegas. Ok, maybe not  _kill,_ but maim or seriously injure. Between him driving Daryl crazy with all the sexual tension and his fucking happy drunk bit, Daryl was climbing up the wall.

“Married?” the hotel employee's eyes grew wide and his fake smile spread to his whole face. “Well sir, I think it only proper we move you into a honeymoon suite!”

Daryl's eyes widened in alarm, “Don't need no damn honeymoon suite, and I ain't paying for it!”

“Sir, you misunderstand! The hotel would like to offer it as a gift for you and your spouse for your wedding night.” The jerk actually  _winked_ at Daryl.

“Well, thank you! We would love to have the honeymoon suite!” drunk ass Rick said with his own salacious wink to the man.

Daryl closed his eyes and swore under his breath, yep, Rick's life was definitely in danger.

***

After picking up their stuff from their original room, the hotel employee (he'd told Daryl what his job title was, but it'd already been forgotten. Rick had been blowing kisses at him behind the guy's back while they were in the elevator) took them to nearly the top floor of the hotel.

The room was much larger than the one they'd had before, with a king size bed and floor to ceiling windows. There was a mini fridge and large screen TV on the wall opposite of the bed. And Daryl could see that the bathroom was probably nicer than any place he'd ever taken a shit in his life.

Rick must have thought so too, because he made a beeline for it as soon as they'd dropped their stuff on the bed. He said something about getting rid of some tequila or Mexican or something and slammed the door.  

The hotel guy was still there and gave Daryl an odd quirk of his eye.

“What? You want a tip or somethin'?” Daryl asked him.

“Uh, no sir. Just I see that you have a bottle of tequila and I would like to send a bottle of champagne up for your celebration.”

“Nah, tequila's fine. But you could send up some limes and salt.”

The man gave a small twist of his mouth but nodded his head, “I'll also send up a complimentary dinner, if you would like.”

“That'd be great. I think Rick likes Mexican.”

Rick came out of the bathroom after the guy left, all smiles. He must really get a kick out of taking a piss. Daryl went to use the facilities then and it was nicer than any place he'd ever taking a shit in. It actually looked nicer than any place he'd ever had lunch in to be honest.

Daryl came out of the bathroom to Rick upending the bottle of tequila, taking big gulps.

“Shit, man! Stop for god's sake.” Daryl managed to get the bottle away without spilling it too much. “What the fuck's your problem?”

“You look pretty. Can't tell you that when I'm sober.”

“I am not pretty,” Daryl huffed out as he put the lid back on the tequila. Maybe ordering the limes and salt was a bad idea.

Rick sighed dramatically and flopped onto the bed, “You are. Can't stop staring at ya.”

Daryl licked his lips before sucking his bottom lip in and biting it, hard. Rick was drunk. Rick was drunk.  _Rick was drunk_. It was a mantra in his head now. Daryl had a feeling that tonight would be way more of disaster than last night in the back of his pickup.

The worst part was he knew as soon as Rick sobered up he wouldn't remember what all he'd said. Well, maybe that wouldn't be so bad. Then Daryl could pretend he didn't hear it. Rick was just lonely since he'd left Lori and Daryl was the only familiar face on this trip. He probably didn't really mean any of it anyway.

Daryl looked out the darkened window. He could see most of the strip from here and some of the mountains beyond. He supposed it was ok, but it was prettier back in Georgia. The neon lights and crazy buildings were way too much for him.

Rick was laying on the bed singing to himself now, sounded like 'Love in an Elevator'. He kept saying 'Going down' in the raunchiest way, Steven Tyler would be proud.

There was a knock at the door then, Rick popped up, but Daryl waved him off. No way would he let Rick answer the door. It was probably just their dinner.

True to his word, the hotel guy had sent limes and salt as well as a bunch of covered dishes. This time he did tip the guy who'd brought dinner. He probably made a fraction of what that blow hard did.

Daryl investigated the dishes and found a variety of Mexican dishes as well as a small cake that someone had scribbled 'Congratulations!' on with blue frosting. Wonderful.

“Ah, shweet! Mexican!” Rick rolled over on the bed to come up beside Daryl, diving right into the burritos. At least Mexican went good with tequila.

Despite how much they'd had, there was still a good bit left in the bottle. And the little worm was still peacefully resting on the bottom. Daryl decided it would be best to just go ahead and drink it just to keep Rick out of it. Daryl knew he was a much more stable drunk than Rick seemed to be.   

Leveler heads would have to prevail. 

Daryl shook his head and started on the rice and beans. He'd actually shaken his head quite a bit at Rick's shenanigans on this trip. Maybe it would've been best if he hadn't let the man drink so much.  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do have the smut chapter written, so no worries there. I hope it will be worth it for ya'll, it's going to be the longest chapter so far. I probably won't make you wait too long for it, but I wanted to see if [skarlatha](http://archiveofourown.org/users/skarlatha/pseuds/skarlatha)'s head would explode from waiting first. :D
> 
> I have also been working on a second part of Lost In The Woods. Didn't want you to think I forgot! It may end up being as long as the first part at the rate I'm going!


	10. You Ain't Nothin' But a Hounddog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been a year...a whole year. And they still haven't gotten that annulment. So what better way to celebrate then going back to the scene of the crime, so to speak. Oh, and maybe bring some of the gang with them.
> 
> P.S. Read the notes before reading the chapter!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, as always, thank you to my wonderfully talented, infinitely patient beta [ArchLucie](http://archiveofourown.org/works/search?utf8=%E2%9C%93&work_search%5Bquery%5D=archlucie) . Ya'll should go read her stuff. It's glorious. 
> 
> Now, to important information. I'm posting the last two chapters at the same time. Yes, LAST two. This is it. It's done. 
> 
> The reason I'm doing that is, well, complicated. But mostly it's because one is an epilogue and one is the final chapter, but you don't have to read both. Although I think you should. And one is Top!Daryl and one is Top!Rick, so if you have a strong preference, you can decide to read the chapter that fits for you. If you don't have a preference, please read them both. Chapter 10 is Top!Rick and Chapter 11 is Top!Daryl. 
> 
> Enjoy!

It was Michonne's idea.

They were going back to Vegas for their one year anniversary. But everyone was going with them. Except for Lori, she was pregnant and still  _Lori_. And Carl, because despite the push in the 90's to make Vegas kid friendly, it wasn't.

So, Daryl and Rick, Glenn and Maggie, Andrea and Michonne...and Merle. They were flying out this time, first class. Daryl had sunk all his winnings into a bike customizing and repair shop and it had taken off.

Now they had more money than what they knew to do with it. And didn't that piss Lori off. She couldn't have a dime because the money had come after the divorce and she got a fair amount of child support for Carl.

So they were flying first class, all of them. Even Merle. Rick had planned ahead though and slipped a couple of sleeping pills into his pre-flight beer. He'd already had a pre-pack his bag beer and a pre-leave the house beer.  And a bon voyage shot with Michonne. Daryl was sure he'd figure it out, but Rick had been smart and tricked Merle into chugging it by saying they were running late for the flight. He didn't even blink an eye.

With Merle out, the flight was relatively quiet. Rick couldn't imagine that they would have made it out of the terminal without getting chucked of the plane if he wasn't. Maggie and Glenn were snuggled together talking quietly, Andrea and Michonne were taking advantage of a sleeping Merle and were sucking face like a couple of teenagers leaving for separate summer camps. Daryl was trying to get some shut eye and told Rick to do the same.

But Rick couldn't sleep. He kept thinking about the last time he flew and how different everything was then, a year ago.

It had been...awkward.

Rick had still been hungover and was in a pissy mood. And he was starting to realize that maybe it wasn't bad Mexican making his ass ache. Daryl had been right back to himself after puking and drinking a bottle of water. That may have been why Rick was in such a bad mood on the flight. Or maybe it was because they'd done something monumental and Rick couldn't stop worrying on it like a bad tooth while Daryl just went on like there was nothing different.

The rings hadn't come off their fingers either. Rick had kept staring at his, wondering what it meant. Daryl had obviously spent a lot of money on it. More than he should have for sure. But Rick loved it. It was perfect and Daryl had known that when he bought it without even checking with Rick.

Rick had felt like a total ass the whole four hour flight home. He knew now that Daryl must have some feelings for him, even if he said he didn't. Who just jumps in a truck and drives for two and half days from nearly one side of the country to the other just to make a friend feel better about his divorce?

Hell, the truck didn't even make it. They'd had to junk it there in Vegas. The engine block had cracked and that was all she wrote. So they were flying back...awkwardly.

Rick had seen the looks that Daryl had given him through the whole flight. Little peeks from behind his lashes. Quick, so that maybe Rick wouldn't catch him looking. And with every look, Rick got a bit more pissed. At himself.

Daryl was a nice guy, not bad to look at, handy in a fight. But he didn't deserve to be caught up in Rick's craziness. Rick vowed on the flight not to get drunk around Daryl again. He seemed to lose all rationality.

They'd had one stilted conversation about going to get an annulment. Rick wanted to do it right away, but Daryl was fine with waiting until Rick had to see Lori again so he could see her squirm. But they never found the time. Oh, they tried.  A few times.  Even got in Rick's car once and headed that way.  But then Daryl had said they might need the marriage certificate, so they'd gone back to look for it.  And then it was dinner time, and then they shared a few beers, and then they'd decided once more for old times sake. And now it was a year later.

They had moved in together shortly after their party. Rick needed a place to stay and he'd lost his job for missing three days of work. It seemed like the right thing to do. And with how Rick realized he couldn't seem to breath right without sleeping next to Daryl, he yearned to be there. It had only taken the three nights of the trip out to Vegas for him to be hooked.

And the sex! The sex was amazing. He was hooked on that too. The night of the party they'd fucked right on the living room floor. Daryl showing Rick how to top. It was good. All of it was good. And Daryl was  _always_  down for sex. Rick had never had anyone want him that much and it was intoxicating.

So, no, they never got the marriage annulled. Which is why they were flying out for their one year anniversary and taking all their friends that had supported them. Even Merle.

Poor Merle, he hadn't figured it out for, what, three months after the party? He'd come over to the house for dinner one night and finally put two and two together. It might have been because he'd caught them kissing in the kitchen when they were supposed to be loading the dishwasher.

He'd come around pretty quick though, seeing as Daryl had gotten him a cushy job at the bike shop. Really all he had to do was talk about the shop to his buddies and get them to come in for repairs or upgrades to their bikes. Merle getting a fat paycheck for running his mouth, who would have thought.  

Rick actually worked at the shop, doing the books so that Daryl could focus on the management side. They were a good team and Rick didn't feel so much like a freeloader. 

They were probably the quietest group on a flight to Las Vegas ever. But with Merle asleep, all their partiers were out. But it just gave Rick time to think. Time to realize he and Daryl had yet to admit their love to each other. Because they did love each other. Rick knew that now, he didn't a year ago, but now...now he was certain. Even if they never said it. He would though, as soon as they were alone.

They had a hell of a time waking Merle up enough to get him off the plane. Daryl ducked into a little store in the airport terminal and bought an energy drink. He wasn't sure, but it looked like Daryl had given him another pill, different than the sleeping pills he'd gotten earlier. Rick was pretty worried that was a bad idea, but it woke Merle up enough to get him to a cab and out to the hotel.

“Mr. Dixon!”

Rick bit his lip to keep from laughing as he watched the concierge that they'd met last year come at Daryl with a big smile.

“Grimes,” he corrected.

“I'm sorry?” The man looked confused.

“My dumb ass baby brother went an' changed his name!” Merle slurred from the back of their entourage.

“My apologies Mr. Grimes!”

Daryl nodded his head at the man, but didn't meet his  eyes. To worried about what Merle was going to do probably.

Michonne and Andrea were in charge of him for now. But it would last only until one of them got tired of his sexist comments. Then it would be Maggie and Glenn's turn, and when he said one too many of his racist remarks he would be Rick and Daryl's problem. As soon as the homophobic remarks got to be too much, he would cycle back through to Michonne and Andrea. It was a good system they'd worked out on the plane.

“I have your rooms ready sir. I must say we were delighted when your husband called and asked for the same room again. Very romantic!”

“Aw, for fuck's sake! I'm getting a drink.” Merle threw up his hands and started walking to the bar they'd passed on the way in. He turned back to the concierge, “Put it on my brother's tab, he's loaded!”

"Whoa! 'Scuse me darlin'!" Merle said to an odd, pudgy looking man that had come in behind them.

Rick looked to Michonne, she rolled her eyes, but turned to follow with Andrea right behind her. They would probably last just long enough for the rest of the group to get settled in their rooms.

“Come on,” Maggie said to the group, ready to dump her stuff and go to the pool. It's all she'd talked about after they'd invited her and Glenn on the trip. She probably wouldn't get a chance based on how they could all hear Merle hollering for a beer.

They did indeed get the same room as last time, the only thing different was the carpet. Rick didn't remember much about it to be truthful. He was already three sheets to the wind by the time they'd gotten there the last time. He'd looked at the pictures on his phones about a million times though, so he had a vague idea.

He wasn't going to waste any time this time fooling around though. He figured they had half an hour or forty-five minutes tops, before they had to switch out on babysitting Merle. He was going to take advantage of it right now.

He grabbed Daryl by the shirt front and pulled him close for a hard, hot kiss. Daryl had been expecting it though and kissed back just as hard, wrapping both arms around Rick, a hand pulling at Rick's curls.

Rick broke the kiss. He had so much he wanted to say. Everything was different this time. For starters, neither one of them was drunk. But mostly, there wasn't any pretense, no dancing around the elephant in the room. This was raw and real and Rick didn't want there to be any misunderstandings.

“Last time we were here...” he started.

“Don't Rick. I don't need it. Let's just get on with it while we got the chance.”

“I need it though! I need to tell you.” Rick tilted his head so Daryl would look him in the eye.

Daryl bit his lip, but nodded his head. He went to move away, but Rick held him tight.

“The last time we were here, it was...a cluster fuck. And I, I was such a jerk.” Daryl shook his head 'no', but Rick knew it was true.

“Anyone that looked at you should have been able to see it. Hell, I don't know why I didn't see it, maybe I did. I don't know. But what I do know, what I've known for a year now, is that I can't breathe without you. And I don't ever want to. And why it's taken me a year to tell you how I feel, I don't know.”

“ 'Cause you don't drink so much anymore.” Daryl supplied helpfully.

“Right. Well, I shouldn't have to be drunk to tell you I love you, asshole.”

Daryl's eyes widened before he pushed himself from Rick with a lot more force than he'd tried before. Rick watched as he walked over to the window and looked out at the scene below them. The crazy hotels with people milling about and the mountains beyond.

Rick gave him a moment and then went to stand behind his husband.

“You were driving me crazy, you know that. Hanging all over me and sleeping next to me. I thought I would die from it.”

Rick let silence fill the air. Daryl always took his time when he spoke, and Rick had learned to be patient. He'd get around to what he had to say in his own time.

“I always just wanted to be close to you, I didn't know why. Couldn't tell you even if someone held a gun to my head. But then you got divorced. And you were broken up about it, and she was such a bitch, ya know?” Daryl was still staring out the window, thinking his long thoughts.

“Didn't even know we was going to Vegas when we left, let alone get married. Just wanted to give you some time to think.”

Now Daryl's eyes sought out Rick's in the reflection of the glass, his eyes soft and a little melancholy.

“I was fooling myself. I wanted time alone with ya. Wanted whatever you would give me. But your ass was drunk most of the time and I couldn't trust that it was real.”

“Daryl...”

“Nah, don't say it Rick. Don't apologize for something you didn't know anything about.”

“I ain't ever told anyone but my brother and my momma, ya know? Never met anyone before you that I even felt a little like that for. But you, damn Rick, you make me think too much.”

He had abandoned the window and was turned to Rick now, his eyes bright with his emotion. Something Rick felt privileged to see, even if Daryl never actually said the words, he could see them written in the blue purity of his eyes.

“But I do. Love you, I mean. Have for a long time. Maybe since before your divorce, I don't know. Can't see as that will ever change either.”

There it was, what Rick had hoped for.  The thing that got them from Atlanta to Vegas.  The thing that had really been the reason Daryl had gone along with the wedding.  The reason they were standing here now, a year later.  Daryl loved him. And fuck if he didn't love Daryl right back.  This may be the only time they actually say it, but they would always know.  It would be enough.  

Rick glanced down at his watch, fifteen minutes. They had maybe fifteen minutes before Maggie or Glenn banged on their door and he planned on banging Daryl in whatever time they had.

Maybe even right up against this window. Yeah, that was good.

He plastered his mouth over Daryl's and then plastered his body over his husband's, pushing him back against the window.

“Gonna fuck you right here against the window, let everybody see.” Rick had his doubts that anyone would see, since they were pretty high up.

“Yeah, go ahead, want you.” Daryl surprised him by that. While Daryl was always ready for sex, he was pretty particular on where and how they did it. And open windows were a definite no-no.

Rick moaned into Daryl's mouth as he reached for where their groins were rubbing together, he had to hurry. Both of their pants were undone in record time and Rick had one hand around their dicks, while the other fished around in his pocket for the little sample pack of lube he'd picked up in the men's room at the airport.

“You fuck me here against the window, I'll have to fuck you in a limo.”

“You got a limo?” Rick asked as he tore open the little packet.

“It's Vegas, they're a dime a dozen. Bet I can get an Elvis to drive us around too.”

“I think you're thinking too much, gonna have to put your mind to other things.”

“Is that right?”

“Yeah,” Rick finally got the lube open and squeezed out enough to get started teasing Daryl open. He was actually still a little loose from their quickie from this morning at the house. They'd found they had some time before Carol came to take them to the airport and so they'd taken advantage.

Now it looked like it would be two quickies in a row. Well, Daryl would take his time with Rick when they swapped tomorrow. They usually just went with whoever was feeling it for the night, but Daryl had told Rick he could have him as much as he wanted today. And Rick wanted.

So the one finger went to two much quicker than normal, and then three. And then Daryl was none too gently turned around, his pants yanked down, his hips jerked out and open.

Rick took a second to massage that firm ass and admire strong thighs, but only a moment. He was on a time crunch. Sliding up as close as he could, he pulled Daryl's cheeks apart and positioned his dick at the loosened hole.

“Ready baby?” he asked.

“Always.”

Rick smiled against the back of Daryl's neck as he pushed his hard cock home. He never tired of this, this closeness with Daryl. His husband. The man he loved. His alone.  

It was going to be hard, fast, and hot. He grabbed Daryl's member in a tighter than usual grip and stroked with firm motions. Daryl gasped into the window, leaving a halo of fog around where his head rested.

Rick drove with purpose, each thrust pushing Daryl harder into the window, Rick's hand protecting Daryl's cock from being slammed along with the rest of his body.

“Damn... Rick, I.... ain't.... gonna... last... long!” Daryl panted out between thrusts.

“Don't... need... to... Have... more... time... tomorrow.” Rick was going at a punishing pace now, their belt buckles jingling a cacophony of noise between their legs, his knuckles banging on the window in time with his thrusts.

“FUCK, Rick!” Daryl's hot come splashed all over Rick's hand and painted long lines on the window. Rick decided they would stay there as long as they were in Las Vegas.

The knock at the door almost ruined Rick's orgasm, but then Daryl  _squeezed_  and Rick couldn't hear anything. Just feel. Feel Daryl inside and out.

By the time he came back to himself Daryl was trying to push away from the window and pull his pants up at the same time. Rick caught him before he could wipe up the mess on the window with the red rag he always carried in his back pocket. He didn't care who walked through that door to see the evidence of their love making, it was staying.

Daryl hrmpd and was across the room before Rick got his pants adjusted, opening the door to a clearly agitated Michonne and Andrea. They were supposed to go to Glenn and Maggie when they'd had their fill, so something pretty bad must have happened.

“What the fuck? How'd you lose him?” Daryl asked Andrea as the ladies pushed past him into the room.

“He said he was going to the bathroom and he never came back,” Andrea explained.

“Merle said he was going to the bathroom?” Rick asked incredulously.

“No. He said he was 'goin' to take a piss'.” Michonne said as she squinted at Rick.

Rick squinted back, watching as Michonne paced around the room like a cat surveying a new domain. Rick licked his lips and hoped she didn't make it over to the window. As it was he was having a hard time not looking over and giving up their private moment.

Daryl and Andrea were still talking in harsh voices, Daryl trying to figure out where Merle might have gotten to, and Andrea telling him she had no idea.

Michonne suddenly stopped on the other side of the bed and sniffed experimentally. Her eyes flew open and searched out the perfectly made bed before looking up at Rick with a raised eyebrow. Rick mimicked her arched brow and added a head tilt.

She narrowed her eyes and then darted them around the room, luckily her back was still to the window and Rick was planning on keeping it that way.

"How much more did he drink?" Daryl demanded.

"I don't know? Two, three shots?" Andrea threw up her hands, "He was getting handsy with some chick with a mullet."

"Don't think it was a  _chick._ " Michonne snorted.

“We ain't gonna find him standing around arguing about it, let's go.”

“Good idea, Rick,” Andrea said as she pivoted on the balls of her feet to leave.

Michonne immediately whipped around the bed to follow her lover, pausing next to Rick to stage whisper, “Your fly is down,” before quickly leaving the room.

They looked all over the hotel for Merle, the casino floor, the pool, back at the bar, even in the bathrooms. Daryl finally corralled the concierge to help them look. He had someone in security check the tapes and found out that Merle had left the hotel, and he wasn't alone.

It wasn't any of them either. They'd stopped and picked up Glenn and Maggie on their way down. The two had earned the same sly look from Michonne that Rick had gotten just a few moments prior.

“It looked to be a man in his late thirties with longish hair in the back and trimmed in the front.” the hotel employee told them.

“You mean he's got a mullet?” Glenn asked.

“Erm, yes.”

“All right gang, we'll have to split up to find him. Daryl and I will go North, Maggie and Glenn can go South. Andrea and Michonne, I hate to break you up, but one of ya'll have to go East and one West.”

“He's a grown man, Rick. You really think we have to go look for him like a lost toddler?” Andrea asked.

Rick looked over to Daryl who nodded his head, “Yeah, yeah I think we do.”

“He's been drinkin' an' I don't think the sleepin' pill's wore off yet,” Daryl elaborated, not mentioning the energy drink or the other pill he may have given his brother.

Michonne sighed and looked to Andrea as she relented, “Fine. Let's go.”

“Call me if you find him!” Rick hollered at the retreating group.

They looked for two hours in hundred degree heat. Stopping occasionally to dip into a casino to look, but also to get a drink. It was fucking hot.

The guys ran into an old man sitting on a bench near a wedding chapel (was it the one? Rick couldn't remember) drinking peach schnapps (Daryl thought it was funny, Rick couldn't figure out why).

“Hey! Don't I know you two?”

Rick took in the gray beard and gray thinning hair tied back in a low pony tail. He tried real hard to place the man, but most of his last time in Vegas was pretty hazy.

“Don't think so, old man,” Daryl squinted at him.

“Yes, yes you do! I sang at your wedding!”

“You are  _not_  the Elvis that was at our wedding!” Rick insisted.

“I am!” He looked at Daryl, “I see he finally came around and saw what I saw.”

Rick had rarely seen Daryl blush, but he was as bright red as one of 99 balloons. And he refused to meet Rick's eyes.

“Yeah, ok. You're him.” Daryl licked his lips and side eyed the old dude.

Rick decided to let that pass, “We're looking for his brother, Merle. He's a loud redneck. He was last seen with a guy with a mullet.”

“Son, this is Las Vegas. Loud rednecks are a dime a dozen.”

Daryl snickered at the irony of the guy’s comment. Hadn't he just said the same thing about Elvis impersonators earlier? Or maybe it was limos? He couldn't remember, Rick had had him plastered against a window doing dirty things to him at the time.

“Right, well if you see him, can you give us a call?” Rick asked.

The old man wasn't looking at Rick, but past him. Rick feared the sun had gotten to him but then he pointed and said, “Is that him?”

Rick and Daryl both turned around to see Merle strutting down the sidewalk arm in arm with a chunky looking guy with a fairly epic mullet.

“Looks like,” said Daryl as he strode off toward his wayward brother.

Rick could tell from here that Merle was well past drunk. The other guy was half holding him up and steering him down the walkway. It looked like he was being fairly decent about it too.

“Well fuck me! If it isn't my baby brother and his pillow biting husband!”

“For fuck’s sake Merle, we're in the middle of the damn street!” Daryl admonished him.

“Aww, didn't mean to hurt your feelings Darlina!”

The odd looking man with Merle stuck his hand out to Daryl, “Pleased to make your acquaintance. My betrothed has talked about you since the momentous occasion of our meeting.”

Daryl squinted at the man, “What?”

“Don't let her looks fool ya! I've reformed her! Eugena here used to be a lesbo, but she got one look at ol' Merle Dixon and decided to go back to peckers and leave the pink tacos for the men!”

Rick and Daryl exchanged looks, both of them shaking their heads. Daryl quirked a small grin at Rick and then nodded his head as he pulled out his cell phone to let the rest of the group know they had found Merle and that he was no longer their problem.

Rick looked at “Eugena” and gave his most charming grin, “I suppose he's your problem now. Come on Daryl, lets go find a limo.”

Daryl full on smiled at Rick as he waved at his protesting brother and walked down the road with his husband in search of a limo.  Maybe they would stop and pick up an Elvis impersonator to be their driver too. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh, good ol' Merle. Always such a character. Someone suggested that another couple get married while they were there and have it be unexpected. I think that's about as unexpected as you can get. I don't know who I would feel more sympathy for. Now, go read the last chapter. Because it is THE chapter. The one you've been asking for.


	11. Body Shots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OMG! THE night! That night, the one where they do 'it' for the first time. Daryl'd been so, so good...but damn, Rick was just _begging_ for it and how could Daryl say no?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, have I ever mentioned my super awesome beta? Her name is [ArchLucie](http://archiveofourown.org/works/search?utf8=%E2%9C%93&work_search%5Bquery%5D=archlucie) and she is about as awesome a person that you could ever meet. Seriously. 
> 
> I finally did it! I finished this fic!! Woohoo! It started out as just a funny one-shot for [grimestone](http://grimestone.tumblr.com/) and then just took off from there. The first few chapters were written pretty quickly and then, well, the feels showed up and I took more time with each. This chapter took a couple of weeks because it was so important and ya'll have been so patient. Except for [Skarlatha](http://archiveofourown.org/users/skarlatha/pseuds/skarlatha), she's been bugging the crap out of me...lol. I kid.

Daryl had finished his meal and was ready for the tequila. Since he was planning on drinking more than just a few shots, he was definitely going to use the limes and salt. He licked the top of his left hand right above his thumb so that he could sprinkle salt there.

He wasn't expecting the moan from Rick behind him.

“Damn Daryl, that is jusht shinful th' way ya do that.” Rick's eyes were glazed over and his mouth was hanging open slightly. The chug of tequila that he'd gotten in earlier must not have been absorbed by the burritos.

Daryl rolled his eyes and went back to the procedure to take his shot of tequila. Lick, shoot, suck. Daryl didn't screw up his face too much at the sourness. Because it was just what he needed right then.

“Yer doin' it wrong,” Rick said in a serious voice.

“What?”

“ 'Posed to lick off somebody else.”

“Don't have to man,” Daryl licked his lips. He was not going to lick salt off of Rick fucking Grimes. Not even if he really, really wanted to. Not even if the man tilted his head and offered his neck. Like he was doing. Right now.

“Nah, man. I'm good,” Daryl reiterated as he shook more salt on his still damp hand. Lick, shoot, suck. It was even less bitter this time. But for some reason there was a flash of light when he'd licked his hand.

He looked over at Rick who was messing with his phone again, “You textin' everybody again?”

“Nope, preservin' a memory.”

“What?”

“Well, you won't lick the salt off me, so I'll just have this here picture to remind me how hot you look doin' it.”

“Will it shut you up of I do it?”

“Maybe.”

Daryl licked his lips, tasting the salt and lime juice mixture there. He could do this. Just lick the salt off. No need to go further. Just do it real quick and get out of there.

Rick tilted his head to the side again, exposing a tasty looking bit of flesh. Daryl picked up the salt shaker to sprinkle some there, but Rick put a hand up, “You gotta lick it first or it won't stick.”

Right, lick it first. Why was Daryl's mouth dry all of the sudden? He licked his lips again, they were gonna be chapped something fierce before this night was over, he just knew it.

He licked a hesitant stripe up the warm neck, feeling Rick's heart beating in the jugular there. Was it beating as fast as Daryl's was? Or was that just Daryl's imagination?

Rick let out a long sigh after Daryl had moistened his neck. His eyes were closed and he had his bottom lip between his teeth. He looked hot as hell and Daryl was pretty sure  _he_  would spontaneously combust in the next few minutes from the fire he felt happening from all of this.

He quickly dosed the spot with salt and looked for a lime, but Rick opened his palm to show that he had a lime ready. Right, ok then. Same procedure then, lick (Rick's neck smelled so fucking good, like wood smoke and cleanliness), shoot (he hadn't really pulled away far enough and almost spilled the damn thing), and suck (wait, where was the lime wedge?).

Daryl looked at Rick's hand for the lime and didn't see it there. His eyes shot up to Rick's face to give him a questioning look, but Rick was already smiling at him, the lime wedge stuck in his mouth. Fuckin' sly bastard.

Rick waggled an eyebrow at him and when that didn't work he looked at Daryl as though to say, 'You chicken?'

Daryl wasn't one to turn down a challenge, so he took a deep breath and put his mouth over Rick's so that he could pull the wedge free. He was not going to kiss the man, nope, just get the wedge. He didn't anticipate that Rick would wrap both arms around his body and pull him close.

Or that Rick's tongue would come along with the wedge. Or that Daryl would relinquish his hold on sanity and push his tongue into Rick's mouth. He wasn't sure what happened to the lime, but it was already gone. And so was Daryl.

Rick moaning into his mouth made it seem worth it in the moment. He would probably regret this in the morning, he always remembered what he did when he was drunk. And being drunk was the only explanation for the fact that he had his fingers twined in Rick's curls and was pulling him closer while his tongue was chasing Rick's tongue between their mouths.

Rick pulled away causing Daryl to make the most embarrassing whimpering noise he'd ever made in his life. He kept his eyes closed, because if he opened them he might realize what he'd done and try to stop. He didn't want to stop, not now.

“Want to do a shot off you,” Rick whispered into Daryl's ear.

Daryl nodded his head and bared his neck. It was only fair after all. He'd done it to Rick.

“No, not there.”

Rick pushed Daryl until he was laying flat on the bed, ripped Daryl's shirt open, and exposed his heaving chest. He didn't even give Daryl a moment to adjust to being bared before him, straddling the prone man and leaning over to lick a nipple. A nipple for fuck's sake.  

Daryl groaned as he felt that lick travel down to his cock and back up to his stomach where it landed with a sharp spike in his gut. He was lost, he was weak, he would let Rick do whatever he wanted.

He jumped a bit when the salt fall on that wet nipple, who knew that would feel so damn good? He worried as he felt Rick move down his body. Hissed as Rick poured a measure of tequila into his belly button. Opened his mouth as Rick pushed a new lime wedge past his lips.

And then Rick proceeded to do the steps involved in taking a tequila shot. Lick (good god, that tongue was wicked), shoot (or suck as the case was here, and damn if that tongue didn't clean out Daryl's navel while it was there), and suck (more like inhale). Rick's body was now completely covering Daryl's and Daryl found that he was a-ok with that.

This time Daryl knew exactly where the lime wedge went, because he turned his head and spit it across the room. It was just in the way anyhow. Daryl was too busy chasing down the tequila taste in Rick's mouth. He was seeing flashes again, but he didn't care.

He hooked a leg around Rick's thigh and with a quick motion that made Rick yelp, he flipped them. He paused kissing long enough to sit up and take his shirt all the way off before reaching down to pull at the one on the man below him.

“You've been driving me crazy, you know that,” Daryl told him as he jerked at the shirt.

“Well, you've been driving me crazy too.” Rick didn't look so drunk now. He looked fucking sober and serious as a heart attack.

“Thought you was drunk?”

“Oh, I'm drunk. But not too drunk for this.” Rick then pulled Daryl back down on him, attacking his mouth and pawing all over his naked back.

Yeah, Daryl was in over his head. He was starting to think the crafty son of a bitch had planned the whole thing. Getting married and dragging Daryl into bed. Daryl would be angry about it tomorrow. Right now he was going to stop thinking and just enjoy it.

Daryl ground his erection into Rick's, and damn that felt good. He'd been wanting to do that since the cheap motel in Nashville. Rick seemed to like it too, because he was grinding right back.

“Want all of you Daryl. Don't want to just get off.”

“Fuck Rick. You don't know what you're asking for.”

“Yeah, yeah I do. Want you so bad, want you in me. Want to feel it tomorrow.”

“God damn Rick.” Daryl wasn't sure he'd make it that far with how fucking needy Rick was sounding.

Daryl jumped off Rick and then the bed, searching for his bag.

“Don't stop!” Rick whined.

“Ain't stopping, need stuff, ya know.”

“Ah, right.” Rick licked his lips and slipped his hands down to the fly of his pants, slowly unbuttoning them.

Daryl almost forgot what he was doing, he was so transfixed by the sight of Rick Grimes taking his pants off. For him, Daryl Dixon. And he was pretty sure the man was doing it as slow as possible just to torture Daryl. He had to let out a slow breath as Rick's hard, enticing cock finally made an appearance. It was...nice. Beautiful even. Daryl's mouth watered just looking at it.

“Come on, don't just stare at me,” Rick pleaded from the bed.

“Right.” Daryl found the lube and condom he was looking for and hurried over to the bed.

He dropped his stuff on the bed while he shucked his own pants. He had to give little Daryl a few sharp tugs to try and relieve the pressure. He may never be here again and damn if he wasn't going to savor it.

Making sure the lube and condom were within arms length, he laid himself out on the bed. He wanted Rick's cock in his mouth in the worst way. Rick didn't seem to mind as he had jerked his hips in Daryl's general direction when he'd  felt Daryl breath out on it.

He chanced a glance up at Rick and saw that the glazed eyes and open mouth were back. He caught those eyes with his own as he put his mouth on the side of Rick's cock in a chaste kiss. The stuttered breath that Rick let out was well worth the wait of the last few days, or months even (but who was counting).

He kissed down Rick's length in the same fashion until he reached his fuzzy little balls, well not so little, but definitely fuzzy. He took one in his mouth and let it roll around on his tongue, sucking softly before moving on to the other one and giving it the same treatment. He went back and forth for a while until Rick's thighs were quivering.

Daryl reached for the lube as he worked his way back up Rick's cock, pausing at the tip to lick all of the pre-cum that was dribbling down.

“God Daryl, that feels so fucking good.”

“You ain't felt nothing yet.”

Somehow he managed to open the lube and get some on his fingers while swabbing at Rick's erection with his tongue. So when he finally engulfed the member in his mouth, his finger was already teasing Rick's back entrance. He didn't push in just yet, just running his finger in a tight circle around the pucker.

Daryl hollowed out his cheeks and sucked in as much of Rick's length as he could as he pushed his finger into the hole it was teasing.

“Jesus Fucking Christ!” Rick cried out as his hips bucked up.

Daryl pulled away from Rick with a pop and pulled his finger out of where it had been exploring, “You ok?”

“Yeah, don't,” Rick took a deep breath, “don't stop.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, just a bit much all at once.”

Daryl smirked, “Gotcha.”

And then he went right back to work. He mostly wanted to keep Rick right on the edge as he prepped him. Rick didn't need to think too much about what Daryl was actually doing down there.

"You ever think about doing any man-scaping?"

"What?" Rick asked shakily.

"It's like the Amazon or something down here."

"Well, I ain't never  _had_  anyone down there to complain before."

"Just a thought for later."

Wait, would there be a later?  Maybe. Hopefully.  Probably not.

Rick sucked in another deep breath when Daryl added a second finger, on a mission to find that prostate now. And hell Daryl didn't even care if he got off at this point, just finally being able to touch Rick like this would be enough for his fantasies for a long time.  But he would do everything he could to finally fuck this gorgeous man. 

Daryl looked up at Rick to see that he'd put a hand over his mouth and squeezed his eyes shut, body arched up. Daryl stared a little longer than was necessary, but he wanted to keep that image for the rest of his life. Because that was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen in his life.

Daryl slid in a third finger and slowly started to work them in and out, still looking for that prostate. He should probably hurry this along as little Daryl was now having a full-on screaming and kicking on the floor tantrum. Rubbing it on the bed spread had not helped one bit and if he didn't get inside Rick's tight, hot hole soon, he just may burn up with need.

And then, miracle of miracles, he found Rick's prostate. He knew he had because Rick practically sat up on the bed and bellowed, “Holy fuck Daryl! That's... that's...yeah that's good.” Rick was full-on panting now, his hips bucking back onto Daryl's fingers. “Not gonna last much longer, god...oh, god.”

Daryl pulled off Rick's cock again, “You ready then?” he whispered.

"Yes, god, yes.”

“Ok, it um, may be easier since this is your first time if ya roll over.”

Rick took a long breath and nodded his head, “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.”

While Rick was rolling over and readjusting himself, Daryl opened and put on the condom. He'd brought a box with them in case Rick found someone to have sex with, Daryl just assumed it'd be a chick, and certainly not him. He certainly wasn't complaining though. 

He looked down at the man spread out before him, questioning his luck. Was it luck? Would Rick be this willing with anyone else? Any other man? Was this just for Daryl? And he almost couldn't go through with it, Rick was drunk. And Daryl would admit that he was drunk too.

“Daryl, stop thinking and just fuck me already! I've been waiting forever!”

Well, how could he say no to that?

Daryl positioned himself behind Rick and pulled his new lover's hips up level with his own. He grabbed the lube again and poured a generous dollop between Rick's cheeks, catching it before it dripped on the bed and pushing it back in the hot little hole.

“Take a deep breath and let it out as I go in, ok?”

“Yeah, yeah...I got it.”

Daryl licked his lips (definitely going to be chapped), and positioned his heavy cock at Rick's entrance. He took his own deep breath as he slowly started to push in.

Rick gasped and jerked, Daryl immediately stopped and pulled out. “Did I hurt you?'

Rick turned back to look at Daryl over his shoulder with a baleful glare, “For the love of god, Daryl. I've never had a dick up my ass before, it was a new feeling. Ok? I'm a big boy, if I don't like it I will tell you.”

“Well, fine then asshole.”

Daryl positioned himself again and pushed in just as slowly as last time, but ignoring (as best he could) Rick's gasps and moans. He stopped once he was all the way in, his eyes almost rolling back in his head with the pleasure of it.

Rick started rocking his hips before Daryl was ready, so Daryl gave him a light smack on the ass, “Give me a minute.”

Daryl wasn't sure, but it sounded like Rick was actually whining like a puppy out in the rain. He wouldn't rush this though, it was hot and tight and perfect and he deserved to take his time after all the shit Rick had put him through this week.

Rubbing his hands up and down Rick's back in meandering circles, Daryl closed his eyes and let out a long slow sigh. He wasn't sure how he got here, or if he would ever be here again, so he really did need a minute. It was probably going to go down as the best minute of his life.

When Daryl opened his eyes, he spied the salt and tequila, the lime wedges were long gone, but he could get by without them. As he reached for the salt he leaned low over Rick's back and licked right between the strong shoulder blades, causing Rick to shudder beneath him. Which cause a fantastic little shiver around little Daryl.

Damn, he could get addicted. Be a Rickaholic. Have to have a fix of Rick every damn day. 

Once Rick was good and  _moist_  there, Daryl shook a fair amount of salt in the valley between Rick's shoulder blades.

“Daryl...” Rick whined.

“Shut up, I get to enjoy this since you've been an ass this whole trip.”

“I have not!”

“Damn if you haven't. Driving me fucking crazy with your blue fucking eyes and your hot little ass.”

“Oh, well. Maybe I have been a little crazy,” he said without a trace of remorse, the ass.

“Pft.”

Daryl leisurely licked up the salt, making sure to track down every grain with wide swipes of his tongue. When he was satisfied he'd gotten them all, he poured a bit of tequila where the salt had been, hurrying to slurp it up before it ran all down Rick's back.

Rick turned his head to look at Daryl, his eyes so sinfully needy that Daryl couldn't help himself. He wrapped an arm around Rick and hauled him up on his knees. He put another hand to Rick's chin and pulled his face around for Daryl to plunder his intoxicating mouth. It was a little awkward, with Rick not used to having this kind of sex, and Daryl more interested in Rick's mouth at the moment, but he was able to start a rhythm that Rick could follow.

Maybe a bit too awkward, because Daryl only got half a dozen thrusts in before the two toppled over in an undignified heap.

“Oof!” Rick grunted as Daryl fell on him.

But Daryl was too far gone to stop now, and so continued to thrust into Rick with abandon. Each push and pull sending sharper and sharper spikes of want and need in his stomach.

Daryl's mouth was blowing warm air into Rick's ear as they moved together. Rick was moaning and grunting with each plunge of Daryl's hips. There was nothing else going on in the world right now but the two of them on this bed, wrapped up in each other, maybe never letting go.

Rick spread his legs wider, pushing up into Daryl's driving hips. The angle just wasn't right though, and Daryl knew it. He wasn't hitting Rick in that spot that would make him see stars.

“Ready for more?”

“Hell yeah baby.”

Daryl pulled out (making Rick whine  _again_ ) and turned his lover over onto his back. Pushing Rick's legs open and back, Daryl could see the dripping cock and quivering hole that were nestled there. He gave a couple of tugs to that hard member before pushing his own into that tight hole.

Rick's mouth fell open and a wail that was probably heard all the way down to the casino floor came out. Daryl's eyes rolled back a bit at that. God he hoped he remembered this night forever.

“Still want more?” Daryl asked.

Rick's own eyes were half lidded and glazed over, a little tear rolling down his cheek. But he nodded his head vigorously, his tongue darting out to lick at his lips.

So Daryl complied and set a faster pace, changing his angle just slightly with each prod of little Daryl (who was so happy right now that he was weeping tears of joy, despite having to wear a raincoat).

And then, “HOLY FUCK!” Ah, Daryl found it.

Rick's moans and groans had transformed into 'Yes's!' and 'Don't stop!', but best of all, 'Daryl, Daryl, Daryl'. Daryl was pretty sure he could come just from the look on Rick's face right now. His eyes were rolled back and lids barely open, bottom lip caught between his teeth when he wasn't shouting into the room, and his neck arched so beautifully. So beautiful in fact that Daryl let go of Rick's legs and fell forward to suckle at that neck.

He let a hand wrap around Rick's red, engorged cock and whispered, “Come for me, baby.”

And he did. Daryl had to plaster his lips over Rick's because he let out a howl that would have the hotel calling in the Winchester brothers if anyone heard it. Rick's streaks of come shot up between them to coat their chests and chins.

Daryl maybe should have been grossed out, but he wasn't. Because he was too busy coming himself and it was threatening the integrity of the condom he was wearing. He should have gotten the regular condoms instead of the extra thin ones, but he wasn't thinking of that right now. He was thinking this was the best orgasm he'd ever had and he doubted he'd ever have another like it.

He rolled off Rick after a super hot kiss, their tongues lazily dueling. Laying there panting like he'd run a race, he pulled off the condom and flung it at the tray that their dinner arrived on. Little Daryl was sleeping quietly now, fully spent. Maybe the little shit would behave for the rest of the night.

Daryl saw Rick moving around and let out a curse as he saw he was going for the last of the tequila.

“Mother fuck, Rick. You do not need any more tequila.”

“ 'M thirsty,” he pouted.

“Son of a bitch, I'll get you a drink out of the fridge.” Daryl heaved himself up with a mighty effort and made the long trek to the end of the bed where the fridge sat on the wall there. He could see a price list on the inside of the 'fridge and a damn Coke was ten bucks. Fucking Rick was expensive. Well,  _fucking Rick_  was expensive, but so was  _fucking_ Rick.

He staggered back to the bed (and when did the room start moving) and swapped the tequila bottle for the Coke. But Rick was already snoring, which Daryl should have known from their previous amorous activities in the back of his pick-up.

“Inconsiderate asshole,” Daryl muttered to himself before he upended the tequila bottle and swallowed the remains, making sure to get that fucking worm.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading, leaving kudos, and commenting. And even if you didn't leave a kudo or comment, but just read every chapter, thank you. I learned a lot while writing this and even made some new friends! 
> 
> I will be focusing on the second installment of Lost in the Woods and hopefully will have that for ya'll soon. It's looking like it will be as long as the original! 
> 
> If you ever feel the bug to write, please do. It's very rewarding.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Cover for "Nut Hand"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4749686) by [SkariCovers (skarlatha)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/skarlatha/pseuds/SkariCovers)




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